"The Last 15 Seconds"

At the height of the One World frenzy, the theatre students, of course, took some time to appreciate the local scene.

Fifteen of us met Libby downtown, after Friday’s dress rehearsal, and caught a performance of “The Last 15 Seconds,” Co-created by Trevor Copp, Anne-Marie Donovan, Nada Homsi, Gary Kirkham, Pam Patel, and Alan K. Sapp, in conjunction with the Victoria Fringe Festival.

The scenery was stark and austere—a dimensionally-conscious array of white cloth hung in an illusionary semicircle, disappearing in the upper extremes of the backdrop.

The first scene opened, and it quickly erupted with light, sound, and A/V projection effects; simulating a suicide bomber’s explosion in a small café, it served as the exposition—dually the starting and ending place—for each of the plays characters.

Initially, I was skeptical. I was worried that it would be too “experimental” from the beginning, and that it would be condemned to the negative stereotypes associated with “fringe” theatre.

However, as the fragmented order of the scenes unfolded, their chronology nonsensical at first, I realized that the audience’s alienation by the intense and intricate special effects, coupled with the highly “cinematographic” tone of the acting, was meant to conjure notions of the corruption of reality caused by the idea of film, and failure versus success, as accentuated by some of the story’s central characters.

Bizarre at times, the overall aesthetic played to magnificent effect. Strong performances, coupled with a truly incredible original script left me blown away.

The ultimate blow—the final scene—was remarkably impacting, as it achieved the choreographic demands of “slow motion” in live theatre, and each of the actors, speechlessly, spun their characters in an emotional three-sixty.

In retrospect, I felt as if the “slow motion” was over-used throughout—it would have been most effective had it been used only in the final scene. And I’d have liked to see some sort of prologue—one declaiming, esoterically, the role of film, or cinema. In some way—so that the audience, while alienated, would not jump to the immediate conclusion that the effects were a cheap trick, as opposed to being an effective narrative and visual device.

I found the writing to be superb, above all else. It played cinematographically, sometimes to its disadvantage. Otherwise, the show was a strong one, and it struck a chord with its audience in a decidedly non-exploitative way. It did not beg for sympathy, simply for basing it’s plot on an incident associated with some of the most pressing socio-political issues of the modern world.