Manual Cinema’s “The End of TV” a Compelling Theatrical/Cinematic Experience

by Michele Markarian

“The End of TV” by Manual Cinema.  Screenplay by Kyle Vegter and Ben Kauffman.  Direction and Storyboards by Julia Vanarsdale Miller. Presented by Arts Emerson, Emerson Paramount Center, 559 Washington Street, Boston, through January 27.

“They tiptoe into your heart until you care for them so much,” is the first line of Manual Cinema’s new work, “The End of TV”. The line is from a commercial referring to cats, but works well as a through-line for the rest of the piece, which deals with love and loss and the failed promise of the American Dream against the relentless backdrop of consumerism. A self-described performance collective, design studio and film/video production company, Manual Cinema uses shadow puppets, on-the-spot video feeds, multi-channel sound design and a live, five-piece band to create a theatrical cinematic experience. 

“The End of TV” intertwines the lives of two women, Flo (Kara Davidson) and Louise (Sharaina L. Turnage). Flo, formerly a supervisor at an auto plant, is an elderly white woman suffering from dementia and carrying heartache. She is lost in the world of QVC, which triggers memories and frequent calls to action. Louise is a young black woman, estranged from her father, and laid off when the same auto plant that once employed Flo closes. She takes a job as a driver for Meals on Wheels, which is how she meets Flo. Television serves as a backdrop and music punctuates the action.

While the story is flawed, it’s an interesting piece to watch on many levels. Davidson and Turnage are both very physical actresses, and although neither character speaks, they emote very clearly with their bodies what is happening in each scene. That said, we are not really watching the actresses, but watching their shadows on the screen, which makes the acting that much more impressive. Vanessa S. Valliere and Jeffrey Paschal provide the filler as a QVC host, Infomercial star, and commercial and television actors. This is funny stuff, particularly against the more depressing elements of the Flo story. Her dementia is so vividly conveyed, through sound and screen, that at one point I silently asked myself why anyone would want to grow old. Then the attention would divert to the television, where hilarity would erupt, for example, over an advertisement for the show “ER”.  All four cast members are also puppeteers, expertly maneuvering the slides and shadow figures. As far as the end of “The End of TV”, well, a new addiction, a new background noise, a new call to action, makes its appearance in a final gift from Flo to Louise. 

The live band, who perform music composed by two of Manual Cinema’s original founders, Ben Kauffman and Kyle Vegter, are terrific, and in addition to the low static hum of the television, provide much of the dramatic tension and release. The vocals are gorgeous, and if you decide to visit the merch table, there are CDs for sale for a mere seven dollars. As they are with all of Manual Cinema’s shows, audience members are invited to come onstage afterwards, and see for themselves the multiple screens, puppets and lights used to create the magic. You can even see for yourself how you look in silhouette. Despite the sometimes confusing narrative, you can’t help but admire and enjoy the ingenuity, work, and play that Manual Cinema employs with this sad, funny and telling performance piece. For tickets and information, go to: https://artsemerson.org/Online/

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