Actors are a superstitious lot. They may not begin that way, but as they grow and the customs of performance seep in, suddenly you’re saying “break a leg” instead of “good luck,” never saying the name of a certain Scottish play, and minding the ghostlight. These are but a few of the things that are common amongst performers, whether theatrical, television, or cinematic, as the success often means taking part in the community and their way of life, a life that’s full of challenges and uncertainty, where it doesn’t matter how good you may be if the right people don’t see your work, where your legacy may lie in merely being a stepping stone for someone else instead of tasting the glory of immortality that can come from recognition. In their first feature film, director/co-writer Ezekiel Decker and co-writer Logan Rinaldi, from a story by Decker and voice actor-turned-writer Robert Gemaehlich (One Piece), comes The Woman Under the Stage, a supernatural thriller that utilizes the superstitions, the rites of passage, that accompany the profession of acting, to ask deeper questions about purpose and what one’s willing to give of themselves to find their own.
Jessica Dawn Willis as Whitney Bennett in THE WOMAN UNDER THE STAGE. Photo courtesy of ITN Distribution.
Aspiring actor Whitney Bennett’s (Jessica Dawn Willis) latest project is a play she knows nothing about with a director she’s never heard of who asks that she move into the theater for two months with the rest of the small cast and crew in order to hone the material for its brief run. It’s an incredible leap of faith, but it pays well and Whitney wants to work. The director, Terrence Durrand (Matthew Tompkins), warns her that he’s going to push his lead actor, her role, as far as he can in getting to the meat of this script which has never been performed and never be will again. At first, she just accepts that this is the usual talk of a director with a vision, but as time goes on and strange occurrences keep happening that only she seems to notice, Whitney will find herself pushed to the brink and beyond.
Matthew Tompkins as Terrence Durrand in THE WOMAN UNDER THE STAGE. Photo courtesy of ITN Distribution.
The Woman Under the Stage is a mixed-bag of a film, one in which the audience can tell the immense thought that Decker and Rinaldi put into the narrative in order to give it weight, to give it significance, so that we would become ensnared by Whitney’s story. We can tell that the writers understand the world of theater, avoiding language that non-performers would gravitate toward and weaponizing the very superstitions clutched tightly by the community. This looks like a producer, played by Jonathan Lamar Egbuna (#Washed), referring to Whitney’s audition using material from “that Scottish play” because to say Macbeth might doom the production before it’s even begun. Of course, that Whitney would use a soliloquy from such a production as her audition does imply a certain level of tempting fate on her part, which merely adds to the depth of character the audience is clued in to before we really know much about her. Later, when Whitney is working alongside scene partner Phillip Costigan (Phil Harrison), who asks her to refer to him as “father” as they work, one might think that this is merely an older actor looking to utilize Method techniques, but their back-and-forth demonstrates a confidence and depth of commitment that Whitney doesn’t display in other aspects of her life or interactions. Through their practice, we get a glimpse of a Whitney for whom performance is transformative when she gives herself to it. This matters so that when Phillip speaks with her later in the film, dropping the exposition necessary to understand the title of the film, it also serves to help Whitney understand an aspect of performance she may be too young to consider: the way in which life is ephemeral, actors walk upon the spirits of past performers, and legacy is fleeting. All of this works because the script clearly understands the world in which its drawing from, making choices for the characters as they engage one another powerful enough to draw you in.
Jonathan Lamar Egbuna as Edgar Bentley in THE WOMAN UNDER THE STAGE. Photo courtesy of ITN Distribution.
Where the film tends to falter in what it doesn’t explain and the presentation of the information it does. The film opens with the playwright finishing the copy, Egbuna playing the role, too, before saying “The Bell Invites Me” and kills himself. In the next scene, we’re shown Whitney shrouded in darkness, looking up, and giving her speech, while intercut with a traumatic incident. We later learn, as mentioned, that her audition uses Macbeth, which creates an omen of misfortune that lays over the film proper, but, if one doesn’t know this, the death of the playwright and the traumatic incident with the speech don’t appear to conflate, though they are supposed to mean something. Similarly, the film utilizes a liquor glass as a recurring physical motif meant to terrify Whitney, but the reason why is never explained, even if the purpose of the glass is. The first time we see it, the use of the camera and Willis’s performance suggest importance, but it’s within the context of her day job as a barista cleaning dirty glasses, making it feel like a harbinger. Yet, when the glass is shown again in a different situation, Willis’s reaction is that of abject horror, which would make sense if there’s some kind of established connection. Mysteries are good and The Woman Under the Stage has plenty that an invested viewer will have payoff, yet, this is not necessarily one of them. Additionally, there’s a heavy use of trauma to define Whitney, except the audience is mostly kept out of the loop on things, thereby making the discovery (by the audience) less impactful for us even if it means something for Whitney. It’s hard to understand Whitney’s reaction to characters playing the parent card when that part of her life hasn’t been established or explored for us. A good mystery walks the line between giving enough information for the audience to infer things while providing concrete information for others. But then you also have moments here where the script contradicts itself in order to create situations that are for characters (specifically regarding Whitney’s boyfriend Josh, played by Gemaehlich) that operate outside of what we’re told. Could it be that we’re meant to believe a character who offers to cover Whitney on the $50K she plans to make from this job so she doesn’t have to go away for two months yet can’t afford a ticket to the show? Or are we to presume that the use of red lighting in that sequence is another potential false reality as Whitney grapples with her and the theater’s supposed demons? From start to finish, Decker and Gemaehlich lavish the film with meaning, but much of it isn’t explored in a way that leaves any kind of satisfaction beyond the subtext.
Jessica Dawn Willis as Whitney Bennett in THE WOMAN UNDER THE STAGE. Photo courtesy of ITN Distribution.
Between weighty concepts that don’t always land, cinematography that is inconsistent in conveying perspective (is it a spirit?, is it Whitney’s reality?, is it reality in general?), and a sound mix that often distracts from dialogue, there’s a great deal within The Woman Under the Stage that’s about as raw as one may expect from a first-time feature. As the anchor for the film, Willis gives audiences someone to lock onto, making the journey feel worth investing in. More than that, she makes the break from reality plausible so that the small tricks the filmmakers utilize are imbued with power to raise questions, like having actors Egbuna and Ashley Spicer (Azteq vs the Prowler) take on multiple roles and no one notices. And, again, this is clearly a tale crafted by people who are experienced with the world of performance, it’s just a shame that all the pieces don’t come together in a way that brings about the shock and twists the script intends.
Available on digital service providers August 15th, 2023.
Available on DVD March 5th, 2024.
For more information, head to the official ITN Distribution The Woman Under the Stage webpage.
Final Score: 3 out of 5.
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Categories: Home Video, Reviews, streaming
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