Stanleyville: Odd Directorial Debut Like an Episode of Survivor… Only Weirder and Less Fun

By Thom Ernst

Rating: C+

Maxwell McCabe-Lokos became a familiar face to me when a billboard image of him advertising his role in Bruce McDonald's The Husband was mounted near the corner of Queen and Spadina.

His distinct look—the balding, furrowed-brow everyman—made him easy to spot in films like Antibirth, Disappearance at Clifton Hill, Station Eleven, and even in an episode of Schitt's Creek. But in the actor's feature film directorial debut, Stanleyville, McCabe-Lokos chooses not to cast himself in any of the film's six major roles, four of them men, one named Manny Jumpcannon, a character McCabe-Lokos played in an earlier short film he directed.

Stanleyville has a Lindsay Anderson/Thomas Pynchon-ish theatre of the absurd vibe that had me analyzing everything from the significance of character surnames (Jumpcannon, Frisbee, Pancreas) to the film's hard-to-miss references to Lord of the Flies (Peter Brook's 1963 version of Lord of the Flies plays in the background of a family home, and later a conch shell is used as a form communication).

But the strain of trying to keep up with the film's offbeat hints that may or may not be targeting a deeper meaning became, if not exhausting, then at least tiresome. Perhaps it's better to allow the film to play out as though confusion is the intent.

So, what then of this experience of watching Stanleyville? For me, the experience requires returning to the film's tagline: Discover the True You That Cowers Inside the You You.

I see. So, Stanleyville is about growth. It's about the inner self freed from beneath the noise of consumerism, social expectations, and self-loathing. It's about self-discovery. Like I said, Lindsay Anderson-ish, only less so.

Stanleyville begins with Maria (Susanne Wuest) walking away from her job and home. A stranger (Julian Richings) invites her to participate in a bizarre contest where the prize is a habanero-orange compact SUV.

Maria arrives at the designated location where she meets four other contestants, an obnoxious rock-star wannabe (Adam Brown), the arrogant son of a successful businessman (Christian Serritiello), a health food enthusiast (George Tchortov), and a young woman (Cara Ricketts) non-descript except for being the only person uncowed by unorthodox rules and the bombastic energy of her fellow contestants.

There are eight rounds to the contest, each round suggesting a psychological or physical challenge: Vital Capacity, Cognitive Sequencing, Cycle of Communication, etc. The further along with the games, the greater the risk—but you probably already knew that.

For a film that exalts the wonders of the true self, Stanleyville's characters come on like an open book with character traits from every level on the anxiety spectrum.

McCabe-Loko substitutes erratic behaviour and raised voices for tension. But Stanleyville does seem to have something to say. Just because I cannot decipher any significant meaning doesn't mean you won't. Then again, in the words of someone wiser than me, some films are merely meant to be experienced. That could be the case with Stanleyville. I only wish the experience was a bit more enjoyable.

Stanleyville. Directed by Maxwell McCabe-Lokos. Starring Julian Riching, Susanne Wuest, Adam Brown, Christian Serritiello, George Tchortov, and Cara Ricketts. Opens on May 6 in Toronto at the Revue and Ottawa on May 13 at Mayfair Theatre.