A film of Pandemic Proportions
Review by Lew Antoine
As we see the light at the end of the tunnel we start breathing a sigh of relief over the CoVid-19 pandemic. While not over, we start applying hope.
But what if that wasn’t what was to happen.
Roy Shellef’s film “Alone” takes us to the seventh-year anniversary of the pandemic – with no end in sight. Can we call this a horror film? Sure. Can we call it horrific? Definitely. Shellef, four languages, as many monologues, some creepy camera angles and effects plus some lonely guitar chords provides us with a cautionary tale of nightmarish proportions.
Make no mistake, there are no gory scenes, no eerie creatures, just four people alone on different parts of the world … thinking they are the only ones left. The simple dialogue serves to frighten more than any ghoul.
Joshua Wallace starts us off with command as an American – looking like a student – whose only friend is a recording devise allowing him to philosophize his terror; Eli Sundler perfectly sets us up to go around the world looking the part of a poet from a far-off land writing his final prose of the end of the world. Sundler gives us the feel of art dying; Chantal Casutt – particular devastating as a young french girl in the throughs of dying from this disease. Vacillating between madness and introspection the rash-ridden Casutt was a disconcerting harbinger of things to come for them all; Mariana Sanjuan, face dirty, sitting in front of a chalk board counting the days of loneliness, tells a story with the power one might feel when talking of any war; and Yijing Liz Song as a young woman who seems to be living in total terror. One might think that if she feels so alone why must she cower in the corner … what is she waiting for?
Each portrayed a different facet of loneliness. Interesting that there are five. Are these the stages of grief? If so, then Casutt might be acceptance and that would make the film even more terrifying.
Writer/Director/Producer/Cinematographer, Shellef seemed to hold the camera too close on his actors or cut away a bit too soon or revealed them in the middle of a sentence, making the film appropriately claustrophobic and morbid. Shellef kept it real and that made all the difference.
This really compelling work should be seen as the well-made film it is; as a cautionary tale; and as a chance to open a dialogue about what we are doing to ourselves and to each other.
Alone is currently touring the film festival circuit
“What kind of life do we want to live?”
“What kind of life do we want to live?”
Review by Brendan McCall
untitled: an exploration of grief
Created & performed by J. Bouey
(stream of live performance)
Part of La MaMa Moves! Festival, curated by Nicky Paraiso
12-23 May 2021
Fourteen months in. Have you ever paused and thought about what we have been through–from the impact of covid-19 on our health, professions, and communities, to the continued police brutality against Black and brown people; from misinformation and confusion over simple facts, to an insurrection against the nation´s Capitol in the name of the Big Lie. Sadly, stresses continue to plague our global society with alarming normalcy, from tighter voter restrictions to a new conflict between Israel-Palestine, from violence against Asian-Americans to the India´s staggering lack of resources to combat coronavirus.
How has all of this this affected our mental health? Our bodies? How do we move forward?
J. Bouey´s piece, untitled: an exploration of grief, invites viewers to participate in these questions, to reflect along with them during a performance which was live-streamed from the downstairs theater of La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club on Friday, 14 May, as part of their annual festival for dance, La MaMa Moves!, curated by Nicky Paraiso. Just as New York City begins opening up many businesses before we have even reached 50% vaccination rate, this year´s festival is a hybrid of dance films and streams for live performances.
The piece opens with J. seated, cross-legged, guiding the audience through a simple kind of guided meditation focused on breath. One advantage of this evening´s live-stream format is that the camera´s POV permitted us to close in on J.´s body, creating a far more intimate viewing experience than would be possible in the theater (although, at times, it was challenging to hear his soothing speaking voice, as he was not wearing a body mic).
After striking the edge of a meditation bowl, J. asks, “What kind of a life do we want to live?” As they answer in an elliptical, seemingly stream-of-conscious string of thoughts, J. simultaneously uses various props familiar to any dancer to massage their back, their legs, their neck. They emphasize the connective tissue of fascia as the individual body´s “first responders”, and encourages a metaphorical parallel to our collective body. The fascia connects all of our muscles with one another, as well as with the surface of our skin; just like our human nation, right? Aren´t we all connected?
The bulk of untitled: an exploration of grief is sharing time and space with J. It´s a bold act, having the performance be, essentially, J. stretching and listening to music and sharing some of their thoughts. However, by sustaining the boldness of this artistic choice for the duration of the piece reminds me of the “small dance” of Steve Paxton, or John Cage´s 4´33. Those pieces challenged what we think of as music and dance, but removing sound and movement from what we expect from the form. If there we witness J. “only” talking and resting, are they still “doing” something? Is this still a performance?
In untitled: an exploration of grief we witness J. Bouey take the time to rest, leading by example how each of us may prioritize or value rest, and to do it with purpose and intention. As things start to open up again, J. encourages each of us to take the time to explore not only what kind of life we want to live, but how we can live that life harmoniously, together.
The Naked Truth with Sean Stephens
Sean Stephens is an actor/singer/songwriter who hails from South Carolina. He peppers his vast litany of characters, comedy, and compositions with what he learned growing up in the south.
Sean is part of the revival of Queer musical comedy, CAMP MORNING WOOD, returning Off-Broadway, JUNE 4-20
AT ASYLUM THEATRE, 307 West 26thStreet. Conceived and directed by Marc Eardley, the critically acclaimed musical comedy features a book and lyrics by Jay Falzone, music by Trent Jeffords, Derrick Byars, Matt Gumley and Jeff Thomson with arrangements and orchestrations by Gumley and Jeffords. It also features nudity! https://campmorningwoodthemusical.com.
Camp Morning Wood tells the story of Randy, who – at a crossroads in his life, AND after a hellish 30th birthday – finds himself (thanks to a blown tire) at the front gate of a humble nudist camp. The camp itself is at a crossroads thanks to threats of closing by a tyrannical, right-wing Christian Senator. Randy is launched into a weekend adventure of titillating tunes, quirky campers, and soul-searching. Together they must find a solution to save the camp … and accept themselves. Randy and the campers bare it all – inside and out – in this wild cross between Rocky Horror and Wizard of Oz. Morning Wood takes “camp” to a new level.
Featured in the cast are Anthony Logan Cole, Thomas Delgado, Da’Merius Ford, Shelton Lindsay, Chris Ogren, Sean Stephens, and Brady Vigness. Premiering June 4 at Asylum Theater, 307 W 26th St, New York City. Evening and matinee performances and even late night showings include: June 4 @ 9:30; June 5 @ 11:00 p.m.; June 11 & 18 @ 9:30 p.m.; June 12 & 19 @ 2:00 & 5:00 p.m.; June 13 & 20 @ 2:00 p.m. Produced by Get Naked, LLC; General Management by Lyle Sterne, Anthony Logan Cole
Ai spoke with Sean before he put on his costume-er-make-up.
Is this the first time you’ve done a nude show? AND how does it feel to do a show like this?
I originated Derek in the last production so I’m excited to return in a new role. Honestly, the main focus is what you’re doing character wise. When you’re in the moment it doesn’t really even feel like you’re naked, you’re too focused on doing what you have to story and job wise.
OK, so we’re coming for the dicks and staying for the story… What’s the story of Camp Morning Wood?
It’s just an incredibly gay musical. It’s such a funny and out of left field story that I think it works. The absurdity is the point.
What’s one thing that makes this a show suitable for everyone? Or is there?
The resonating theme that we all want to be accepted for how we are. Baring it all (your heart) and being yourself is the most important thing you can do.
What’s next for you – clothed or not?
I’ll just be riding the re-opening wave. I’m looking forward to being able to make art after such a long break.
Arts Independent 