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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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:
And we’re back. Juggling a busy summer social schedule, with an impromptu trip out-of-town the first weekend of the festival, I managed to do a bit of SummerWorks catch-up this past week, seeing most of the shows I managed to catch this past weekend, including three yesterday. SummerWorks 2012 has wrapped – and here’s the scoop on the four shows I saw on closing weekend.
Medicine Boy (Anishnaabe Theatre Performance – Scotiabank Studio Theatre). Written by Waawaate Fobister, directed by Tara Beagan, and featuring an all Indigenous creative team and cast, Medicine Boy takes us on a hero’s quest as Mukukee (Garret C. Smith), guided by the mysterious and mischievous storyteller Daebaujimod (Jonathan Fisher), is transported via visions, dreams and memories of personal family history – with images projected on the fabric of the set – on a mystical journey of self-discovery and identity. From the smell of sage and the sound of crickets before the play begins, to images of violence and terror that mark the residential school experience, and the enraged wild girl Mukukee encounters, as well as moments with his deceased mother (both female roles played by PJ Prudat), the audience is carried along this journey with laughter and tears – through the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. An amazing cast, and an engaging and moving production.
Terminus (Outside the March – Factory Theatre Mainspace). I managed to squeak in after waiting on stand-by for the closing performance of this Irish spoken word ballad by Mark O’Rowe, directed by Mitchell Cushman, and featuring another outstanding cast of three: Maev Beaty, Ava Jane Markus and Adam Wilson. With a black metal and nylon strap set, resembling the supports of a crane against girders of a building in progress and at the same time a pair of black wings, the audience is seated across the upstage half of the stage with the set and playing space taking up the downstage half – making for an incredibly up close and intimate experience for both actors and audience. A mother (Beaty) estranged from her daughter tries to help a young woman in peril, while a young woman looking for love (Markus) finds her evening out with friends taking a nasty, then supernatural turn, and a shy young man who adores the music of Bette Midler proves to be a tortured and dangerous fellow (Wilson). Both lyrical and profane, terrible and wonderful, beautiful and grotesque, Terminus is a riveting, visceral and powerful piece of condemnation and redemption.
The Hearing of Jeremy Hinzman (Foundry Theatre – The Theatre Centre). This is verbatim theatre project, created by Josh Bloch and Oonagh Duncan, and directed by Richard Greenblatt. With dialogue taken from transcripts, interviews and using live video of actors re-enacting newscasts, it is the true story of a U.S. soldier who became the first American citizen to request refugee status in Canada. Canada’s dilemma: in order to grant his request, it would have to find that the United States’ war in Iraq was illegal. Socially conscious, enlightening and engaging, Hinzman features a fine ensemble of multi-tasking actors: William “Bill” Colgate (Hinzman’s lawyer Jeffry House), Joris Jarsky (Hinzman and Jimmy Massey), Dov Mickelson (Brian Goodman, who presided over the hearing at the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada), Sarah Orenstein (counsel representing Minister of Citizenship and Immigration Judy Sgro), Jamie Robinson (Chuck Wiley) and Kevin Jake Walker (Joshua Key), with most cast members doubling up for newscasters, political pundits, etc. Hinzman’s case is ongoing.
France (or, the Niqab)(Old Pirate – Theatre Passe Muraille Mainspace). Playwright Sean Dixon and director Tanja Jacobs bring a social message home through laughter. Featuring yet another trio of brilliant actors – Salvatore Antonio (who Lost Girl and Saving Hope fans will recognize), Charlotte Gowdy and Beatriz Yuste – France (or, the Niqab) is a smart, irreverent, sexy and funny look at the assumptions people make about both women who wear the niqab and those who don mini-skirts and high heels. Antonio does double duty as the hilarious Clouseau-esque police officer, and as the charming and handsome mystery man who pays the fines of women charged with wearing a niqab in public in exchange for a photograph. Yuste also takes on two roles: the quick-witted, good-humoured Samira who is charged with wearing the niqab in public, as well as the hysterically opinionated secretary of the mystery man. Gowdy is the wry-witted, ballsy high heel wearing lawyer Tabatha who takes on Samira’s case – on the condition that she wear the traditional clothing for one business day. Movement, dance and music are incorporated into the production: from Tabatha trying to work out how to wear the garments to a lovely dream sequence – where the two women dance together in a bond of sisterhood and woman power. Great big, thought-provoking fun.
Come to think of it, all of the plays that I saw this year were thought-provoking, engaging and entertaining – making the theatrical experience of each play both worthwhile and unforgettable.
Also check out what these other good theatre blogger folks had to say about the SummerWorks program: