Getting real at the movies in the intimate, entertaining, immersive The Flick

Durae McFarlane & Amy Keating. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

 

Outside the March and Crow’s Theatre join forces to present Annie Baker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning love letter to the 35mm movie theatre in The Flick, directed by Mitchell Cushman, assisted by Katherine Cullen and Rebecca Ballarin, and running in the Guloien Theatre at Streetcar Crowsnest. Intimate, entertaining and immersive, workplace shenanigans, friendship, loyalty and personal demons emerge in the world of a run-down dive of a neglected movie house and the lives of three people who work there for minimum wage.

When you enter the Guloien Theatre, the audience seating faces rows of empty movie theatre seating, with a raised projection booth up centre. As the lights go down, the projector comes to life in the booth (projection design by Nick Bottomley), accompanied by Richard Feren’s sound design, giving you the full movie theatre experience—from a different perspective from the one we’re used to experiencing—including production company theme music and movie soundtrack snippets that play along with the light show.

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Durae McFarlane & Colin Doyle. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

It’s Avery’s (Durae McFarlane) first day on the job at The Flick Cinema, a run-down endangered species of a 35mm movie house in Massachusetts run by absentee owner/manager Steve (who we never meet). Veteran usher Sam (Colin Doyle) shows him the ropes of the walk-through—sweeping up and collecting trash in between screenings (and even waking up the occasional sleeper: Brendan McMurtry-Howlett). Rose the projectionist (Amy Keating) is working up in the booth; and despite Sam’s enthusiastic attempts to catch her attention, she’s not having it.

Avery is a college student, working there as a summer job; and he’s a big-time movie nerd and six degrees of separation savant, as Sam soon learns, much to his amazement. Sam’s broad tastes in movies include more popular, mass appeal films; and Avery is a serious film snob. And while Sam pursues the attentions of Rose, Rose seems to be interested in getting to know the new guy Avery.

As the relationship and workplace dynamics unfold, the three gradually and selectively reveal themselves to each other—and to us. Avery is dealing with some heavy psychological and emotional shit, including family issues. Sam is resentful that younger, less experienced staff are being promoted over him; and he keeps his family life close to the chest. Serial monogamist party girl Rose thinks there’s something wrong with her. And rumour has it that Steve may be selling The Flick; and in an age where 35mm is being replaced with digital, this means it will likely be updated with a digital projector—something that film buff Avery can’t abide. Various levels of privilege are highlighted; while Avery is Black, and having a professor father means a free ride to college, he’s the most likely to get blamed (by their racist boss) for screw-ups at work. Sam and Rose enjoy white privilege, but their familial and financial circumstances mean heavy student debt or no college at all, and a struggle to survive with minimum wage jobs. In the end, friendship and loyalty are put to the test as revelations and consequences emerge.

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Foreground: Amy Keating. Background: Colin Doyle & Durae McFarlane. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

Remarkable work from this outstanding cast, each creating a sharply-drawn, authentic and flawed character that we all end up rooting for; and like in real life, they’re all putting on a show of sorts, wearing the public masks we all don on a daily basis—and occasionally, the masks are lifted and things get real. Doyle is endearing and entertaining as Sam; there’s a combination of grumpy old man and chill young dude that masks Sam’s discouragement at being personally and professionally rejected. He’s in love, but can he bring himself to say so? McFarlane is an adorkable delight as Avery; highly intelligent, socially awkward and longing for a friend, there’s a lost little boy quality about Avery that hints at a deeper internal conflict. Keating brings a lovely combination of fire and vulnerability to the high-octane, free spirit Rose; as much of an extrovert as Avery is an introvert, Rose is a free spirit whose desires are expressed in brief and intense sexual relationships. Even though Rose does what she likes and likes what she does, she wonders about the long term—and if something is really wrong with her.

All the world’s a stage—or in this case, a movie screen—and we’re all merely players. Real life isn’t like it is in the movies, but sometimes we can hit some of those sweet spots. And we all have opportunities to choose to get real and drop the stereotype mask for a moment, or not.

The Flick continues at Streetcar Crowsnest, extended by popular demand to November 2; advance tickets available online. Advance booking recommended; this is a really popular show.

See for yourself in the trailer:

Touching, disturbing macabredy – Murderers Confess at Christmastime

Three beds, suggesting three separate playing areas. And Christmas music, which is kinda trippy when you’re hearing it in August. Setting the scene for Outside the March/The Serial Collective co- production of Jason Chinn’s Murderers Confess at Christmastime, directed for SumerWorks by Simon Bloom.

An injured young actress (Amy Keating), home alone, becomes an unwitting host to a handsome, but uninvited guest (Harry Judge). A closeted young mayoral candidate’s (Aaron Willis) hook-up with a twink trick (Jeff Ho) he met online becomes woven into his life and relationship with his troubled former model wife (Candace Berlinguette). The relationship between a wheel-chair bound man (Tony Nappo) and a female co-worker (Nancy McAlear) becomes the catalyst for a future encounter.

The compelling storytelling includes a stellar cast, each executing his/her multi-layered character’s evolution with skill and respect throughout the piece. Keating is energetic and adorably quirky, yet surprisingly strong, as the young actress; and Judge gives a lovely, layered performance as a man living a secret life outside that of his family. Willis does a nice job of playing the duality of his character’s life – self-assured in the political arena, while his personal life is an exciting exploration in a minefield of secrets. Ho’s twink is a hip, cocksure boy, his flip sense of humour the other side of a loyal soul filled with empathy. Berlinguette brings a lovely combination of vulnerability and savvy to the damaged trophy wife, troubled and struggling to soldier on. Nappo gives us a sweet and accommodating, yet deeply lonely and frustrated, man longing for love and affection – something of a polar opposite to McAlear’s larger than life, hard-drinking, hilariously funny, yet equally lonely, co-worker.  No one is as he or she seems at first– and in every case, circumstance becomes the catalyst for action of a “didn’t know he/she had it in them” quality.

The one thing all three scenarios have in common is each character is filled with a deep longing to connect in some way, to fill a profound sense of loneliness and isolation. It’s ironic that, in this day and age when we have all this technology to help us connect with each other – the web, cellphones, Skype all feature in this play – we seem to be a more lonely race than ever.

Murderers Confess at Christmastime is a touching, disturbing macabredy – darkly funny and tension-filled, with moments of brutality and unexpected tenderness. It continues its SummerWorks run at the Lower Ossington Theatre main space until August 17. Go see this.