Stanleyville Review

Pursuing minor success and jumping through grim hoops to get there, Stanleyville’s concept brings dissatisfaction to the forefront. Oddities of life that go unnoticed by the office drones are a detriment to those who seek adventure. The pitch-black comedy stylings of Maxwell McCabe-Lokos’ direction should mark that well but there is unfortunately little on offer. Rebellion and mundanity come in equal measure for Maria Barbizan (Susanne Wuest) who is convinced she is unique. Isn’t’ everyone? Some of the stranger interactions come immediately through Stanleyville, and it is McCabe-Lokos’ struggle with his own frail uniqueness that torpedoes the chances of this being an interesting feature that looks at the intent of gluttony and the lack of reward it can present.

Very, very little substance is given to the actions and interactions that follow the binning of all earthly possessions. Even if Julian Richings is giving that slender, sickening turn as Homunculus, an apparent tournament creator, it is the premise that brings Richings and Wuest together that feels so out of form. Like a first draft of a Fyodor Dostoyevsky novel, Stanleyville finds itself dealing with gluttonous contempt for the self and the immediate family. The opportunity to discover the “true you” as Homunculus puts it. Reservations are cast aside. Independence, or the opportunity of it, is featured in the scapegoat item, an SUV. But that is where the fundamentals and quality end, because although Stanleyville has much interest in its thematics, anything gathered from it is a hopeful projection from the viewer.

Whatever Stanleyville hopes to concern itself with is entirely down to the individual. It is a movie so empty that anything can be planted in its place, but it is full of lingering threads and ill-advised narrative moments. It turns violent, dark, lacking in interest. Stanleyville has no fundamentals to it beyond the need to be strange in an empty room. Its spillover comes from the fine line between dark comedy and dumb comedy. One character dies because he holds his breath for too long. A success on paper, but the angles, structure and directing style of Stanleyville has that independent feel of taking things a bit too seriously. It feels washed up, like Vivarium did and it does little to present many alternatives to that, especially fatal when there is such potential for varying messages. Instead, Stanleyville is lost to its own pontification.

Had it not been lost to those self-satisfied moments of weird and wonderful contribution that actually articulate nothing at all, Stanleyville could have been an interesting pushback against mundanity. Nobody should live to work in an office, but nobody should kill to win a prize that has value projected onto it. These are projections. These are not themes present in Stanleyville. Pursue something else, something beyond what this fine cast and crew can do. An actor can only elevate a script so far. To go any further than this, better work is needed. It is not coming anywhere close to this. A piece that hopes its audience will fill in the blanks with its “freedom comes from defying the odds” jigsaw pieces. No dice. Do it yourself or don’t bother at all. Freedom to ignore Stanleyville is a far greater liberation than anything McCabe-Lokos and his cast can provide.