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:

Big surprise romantic gestures, coming together & falling apart in the endearing, fragile, funny I’m Doing This For You

Haley McGee in I’m Doing This For You—photo by Matthew Peberdy

 

She’s gone to great lengths to set up a surprise birthday party for the man she loves, an aspiring standup comic. We’re all invited to the festivities—and we’re going to be his audience.

Soulpepper closes its Solo Series with Haley McGee’s I’m Doing This For You, directed by Mitchell Cushman; the show opened to a packed house at the Young Centre in Toronto’s Distillery District last night.

Combining storytelling, improv and performance art, McGee gets us from the get go. Dressed in a bright orange vintage dress and wearing a bleach blonde wig, she’s a woman on a mission. She’s invited us to the theatre to celebrate her man’s birthday—and be his first major standup audience. Checking in with stage manager Robin (Munro), and making the rounds to ensure that everyone’s had their shot of vodka, she’s a flurry of super planning activity. And as we sit waiting in the dark for his arrival, she explains what will happen and we get ourselves ready to welcome him.

He’s running late, so the lights come up and we get some history. Her ever alert ear on the door, pricked by any possible sound of entry, she tells us how this engineer/amateur comic caught her attention. He made her laugh. And she really needed that. She finds it difficult to commit and—navigating emotional highs and lows on medication—we hear about how she made herself fit into the relationship so she could keep it.

Of course, things went astray. When he finally does arrive (the ex-boyfriend is played by a different actor each night), things don’t go exactly as planned—and even fantasy can betray. But there’s mini-cupcakes.

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Haley McGee in I’m Doing This For You—photo by Matthew Peberdy

McGee is a powerhouse of storytelling and entertainment, connecting with us in this immersive space. Conveying focus that shifts from razor sharp to scattered, a fragile psyche, and an endless capacity to feel hope and despair, she gives a quirky, genuine performance that is both entertaining and poignant. Touching on issues of relationships, mental health and obsession, I’m Doing This For You highlights the difference between needing and wanting a romantic partnership, and how we can be really attracted to something about someone even when we’re not that into them. And the crazy things we all do to maintain or avoid intimacy, and the regrets and after thoughts that go through our minds when it’s over. This woman is a super kooky, fun gal who’s seriously derailed herself—and we really come to care about her during this 65-minute journey.

With shouts to lighting/set/props designer Shannon Lea Doyle for the trippy performance art set, full of white and transparent balloons. Combined with McGee’s retro costume, the design is a flashback to Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In (for those of us old enough to remember that sketch comedy show).

Big surprise romantic gestures, coming together and falling apart in the endearing, fragile, funny I’m Doing This For You.

I’m Doing This For You continues in the Michael Young Theatre in the Young Centre till this Saturday (May 6); this show is for adults aged 19+ (proof of age required) and booking in advance is strongly recommended. Get your advance tix online or by calling the box office at 416-866-8666.

Catch a sneak peek at I’m Doing This For You:

 

 

Interview with Vanessa Smythe on Outside the March collaboration for 100 Outside Voices

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Vanessa Smythe

“Maybe a city is not just a place, but a suggestion of what we place in our hearts.” – Vanessa Smythe, 100 Outside Voices

Outside the March (OtM) asked Toronto actor/poet/spoken word artist Vanessa Smythe to compose a 100-line love letter to Toronto. The resulting piece, 100 Outside Voices, will be performed and recorded by 100 OtM Artists, each reciting one line, and unveiled in the Fall. I last saw Smythe during her very busy – and successful – summer 2015, performing her spoken word piece In Case We Disappear at the Toronto Fringe, which she took to the Edinburgh Fringe later that summer. She recently appeared in the Canadian Stage production of Domesticated back in December. I asked her about 100 Outside Voices and how she came to be involved in the project.

LWMC: Hey busy lady, congrats on this exciting commission from Outside the March. How did you come to be involved in 100 Outside Voices?

VS: Hey thanks! Yeah, Mitchell Cushman approached me and asked if I could write a 100-line poem that could double as a love letter to our city, and a bit of a manifesto for why we tell stories, especially in a site-specific way throughout Toronto. It would celebrate the 100 artists Outside the March has employed, and also be an inventive way to invite fundraisers for the campaign. Much of my poetry is about personal experience, so it was nice to look outward for this one, wonder about something bigger.

LWMC: What can you tell us about the genesis of the piece and your writing process? Any particular inspiration(s) or impetus?

VS: I’ve often come to Mitchell when I’m creating or developing new work. He acted as an ad hoc director to me for my solo show In Case We Disappear, and he’s always been very encouraging of my writing and exploring. For this one, I was intrigued, but had no idea where to start. How could I speak on behalf of everyone who lives in Toronto, who cares about it? How could I capture all of that in one poem? I felt I couldn’t possibly capture everything, and on the day I started writing it, I was actually feeling really down, really uninspired. I ended up wandering around the city, walking my favourite places, riding streetcars with no destination in mind, just getting close to the city – spending time with it, seeing if I could gaze at it, listen to it. I ended up recalling the people and memories that are borne out of the city. The things that animate and give the city its life and its breath. It became about the things we care about – how traces of that care are all over our city, and how if all of it vanished – what we’d lose. It’s not meant to speak on behalf of everyone, but is instead an offering of love to the city and the people who care about it.

LWMC: How and where it will be performed? And can you tell us about any of the actors you have onboard?

VS: 100 artists are each assigned one of the 100 lines. And they’re not just actors. Designers, writers, all of OtM’s artists. They go to their favourite place in the city, and speak the line (recording it with their phone). We stitch them all together so the poem literally becomes this 100-person offering – all of us celebrating our mutual playground.

LWMC: The big, multimedia reveal will be this Fall. When and where will folks be able to see the full piece?

VS: Outside the March tends to operate with an exciting bit of mystery. I’m not sure the details of the reveal yet. My guess is it’ll be some kind of gesture. Something that celebrates the multiple voices of our city.

LWMC: 100 Outside Voices is also a fundraiser for Outside the March – and folks can donate on the project’s Canada Helps site. Anything else we should know about 100 Outside Voices?

VS: 100-voices.com is the website for all the details. It’s funny too, since writing the poem, I’ve had more thoughts about our city, more layers that I wish I could’ve explored in the poem, which – though frustrating at times – is such a nice reminder of the uncountable parts of where we live, and how even our act of celebrating it – though never finished – makes us curious to keep learning about it, keep listening to it.

LWMC: I like to finish up with James Lipton’s Pivot questionnaire: What’s your favourite word?

VS: Yes. Home. Please.

LWMC: What’s your least favourite word?

VS: I like a lot of words. Maybe “your,” spelled wrong.

LWMC: What turns you on?

VS: Kindness. Being physically present. People talking about what they love. People not giving a f*ck. Spontaneity.

LWMC: What turns you off?

VS: Rudeness. Piercing, complaining voices.

LWMC: What sound or noise do you love?

VS: Computer keys being tapped really fast. My nephews laughing. Rain falling on the lake. When you’re walking through a forest and you can hear the water nearby before you see it.

LWMC: What sound or noise do you hate?

VS: People filing their nails. The sound of the dance floor on a Saturday night at 2am at a bar I used to work at. The sound would be murderous.

LWMC: What is your favourite curse word?

VS: Fuck.

LWMC: What profession other than your own would you like to pursue?

VS: I’d like to start a company that did something good, helped young people feel free, more themselves.

LWMC: What profession would you not like to do?

VS: Sell used cars. Unless it was just for a day, and I could be really bad at it.

LWMC: If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

VS: Hello again, my friend. Hello.

Thanks, Vanessa!

Keep an eye out for Outside the March’s production of Vanessa Smythe’s 100 Outside Voices in Fall 2016. In the meantime, take a look at the teaser trailer: