Rufus
He’s the old man in the neighbourhood who everybody recognises but nobody really knows, standing under his umbrella on the corner after dark as the cars slip past, the kids begging him to tell them a story when they – and he – should already be home, Rufus Johnson berated by his wife Louise for leading them astray when he should know better, but his stories need to be told.
The streets cold and unforgiving, the only colour graffiti and neon, first demanding the kids promise that they won’t tell their parents, Rufus recounts a series of strange cautionary tales, the man with the deadly hands, the role of a lifetime, the climbing vegetables, the Korean dog-boy, the exploding dolls, results of misfortunes and accidents and those who hoped to make things better for themselves but were instead brought low.
A horror anthology directed and edited by Mars Roberge from his own script, Freeway Ricky Ross is the titular Rufus, philosopher and neighbourhood sage, the madman poet barking at the moon who spouts nonsense to anyone who will listen, any potential power in his stories of evil hands, human sacrifice and telepathy between comatose patients stretched by the lack of credulity of the medium and lacking any direct relevance to his listeners, offering no reflection of their lives or circumstances.
The episodes uneven with Climbing Vegetables, based on a stage play by Erez Majerantz, running to fifty minutes in two sections while Korean Dog Boy mercifully runs to barely four as a couple discuss their successful careers, expensive shoes and hair and new adopted child Momo, the lovers inexplicably introduce themselves with capsule synopses of their lives, facilitating expedience but forcing background which has no bearing on the story.
The narrator failing to wrap up with a final observation to bring closure, possibly because there is no linking theme or through-line to the individual pieces, Rufus is a mis-matched patchwork of odds and ends, shot in Los Angeles and New York with one section seemingly cast from local theatre groups, the ensemble performing the disjointed scenes with the conviction of an unrehearsed read-through of thin material, the anthology format requiring twists, reversals, comeuppance, but each instead fizzling out before shuffling away.
The dialogue noise which fills space without saying anything, the cast includes Rah Digga as Louise, Roberge’s wife Debra Haden as aspiring Broadway singer Emily, Annalisa Guidone as nurse Luciana, communicating with her patients through dance, Spookey Ruben as unethical Doctor Saul and Monique Parent and Verona Blue as new parents Linda and Alicia, Rufus playing like an awkward series of comedy sketches and suffering from a sparseness of detail which might be forgiven in a dramatic spoken word stage performance but cannot carry the expectations of a feature film.
Rufus will be available for digital download from Tuesday 25th November
