Solid Independent Film FOUR COLOR EULOGY Hits Big Screen in St. Louis April 8-14

There are some things you never bring up in polite conversation with mixed company: politics and religion at the forefront. Everyone has very personal views on both matters and anything contrary to those views can draw ridicule, exasperation or outright anger from the opposite party. Then there are topics that even within a tight circle of friends and family can be contentious. Mortality is a good example. What if someone in the family doesn’t want to be buried but cremated? What if they don’t want to be resuscitated or live solely on life support? What if they don’t want to fight a difficult but potentially beatable disease like cancer? Coming to grips with how a loved one wishes to meet their end on their own terms is an emotional and difficult experience. Now you might think this is a crazy notion, but comic books can be almost as emotional and contentious as death itself. Don’t believe me? Hang around your local comic shop for an hour or two on a Wednesday and strike up conversations with anyone who appears to be a “regular”—you’ll spot them when they ask the shop clerk for their books, or “pulls.” Even if you’re not a comic reader yourself, if you can draw a couple of people into the conversation you’ll start hearing how much DC comics suck compared to Marvel, how depressing Marvel is compared to the hope and optimism of DC, pre-New 52, of course. Ask who would win in a fight between Batman and ANYBODY—just pick a name from one of the titles on the shelf. The comic geeks, a term most will willingly embrace if they can quote issue numbers, writers and artists of a given story element, will vigorously prosecute or defend the notion of Batman being able to counter Wolverine’s Healing Factor, or Superman’s yellow sun-driven nigh-immortality, or Iron Man’s tech, or Thor’s godhood, or Sharknados—the list goes on and on.

What does this have to do with the locally shot and produced dramedy FOUR COLOR EULOGY, which makes a one week run at Ronnie’s Theater in south St. Louis County starting April 8 through April 14? The fantasy of comics and the reality of mortality are central themes of the movie, and for the most part they make for a solid team-up.

FOUR COLOR EULOGY stars some terrific local actors, frequently found on various stages across St. Louis. For all of the area’s faults, St. Louis is actually a pretty big player in the live theatre world. Various films have been shot here too, most notably certain parts of the Kurt Russell classic ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK and the more recent UP IN THE AIR starring George Clooney. Co-written by and starring Jason Contini, Nicholas J. Hearne, and John Contini with strong work from actresses Amy Loui, Jessica Winingham, and Taylor Pietz (who contributes to a very nice soundtrack that also features Abby Stahlschmidt, Manitoba Rock n Rolla, and one of my favorites, Clockwork), FOUR COLOR EULOGY explores the fear and frustration over the impending death of a loved one, a healthy dose of comic book and pop culture references and a late plot twist that would be right at home in a comic book story arc.

Chris (Jason Contini) and Anne (Winingham) are childhood friends turned cute couple who left St. Louis for artsy bike trails of Portland. They’re called back home when Chris learns of his mother Carol’s (Loui) cancer, a disease she is unwilling to fight. The couple is welcomed home by Carol and the third member of the childhood friends circle, Brian (Hearne). Once they settle in the gang heads to their favorite comic shop, ran by Kirby (Zachary Allen Farmer), to reconnect with their neglected hobby. They also spend time with Carol, whose jokes about death stop the thirty-somethings who all think of her as their own mother cold. Chris in particular struggles with his mother’s levity. They end up at their favorite watering hole, ran by Rich (Jason’s real life father John) and pretty bartender Katie, whose flirtations with Brian go completely unnoticed. They soon discover that Rich, a longtime friend of the family, used to work as a comic book artist himself under the penname “Jack King.” As the story progresses, Chris finds his difficulty in accepting Carol’s mortality reignite some long-smoldering questions about Chris’ own back story, while Rich may have yet previously unknown life which comes to light as he too struggles with accepting his longtime friend’s fate.

There’s a lot to like here despite a few flaws. Director Wyatt Weed manages to avoid the “local” trap locally shot movies often succumb to by not relying too heavily on landmark scenery. There are a couple of establishment shots early on of the Gateway Arch and South Grand Avenue, but by and large you’d really have to know your way around the metro area to recognize every location. I recognized the film’s comic shop because I’ve been there, but I couldn’t really tell you with any certainty where Carol’s house was. Eschewing popular scenery helps keep the focus on the actors. The actors, all accomplished on stage, generally do a good job in the film. Amy Loui is excellent as Carol, who faces the same dilemma as her son: why can’t the other see things the same way they do? Amy is appropriately resolute or inappropriately funny at the exact moment each behavior is called for. Anne Winingham is likewise excellent, at turns supportive or furious at Chris’ mercurial mood swings. She reminds me a little of Jennifer Beals with a hard-to- define touch of exotic beauty. Taylor Pietz is one of my favorite local actresses so I’m not entirely unbiased when it comes to judging her effort here, but she plays well whenever she’s in the scene. Among the boys, the Contini family should be very proud. Jason has leading man looks with a bit of John Cusack melancholy, and is at his best when tensions are highest. John wears “cranky old man,” “wise sage,” “humble artist,” and grieving friend hats equally well. Nicholas J. Hearne’s character seems to suffer from being a bit too singularly geeky. His rage at Carol and Chris bubbles up from time to time but soon reverts back to campy Star Trek quotes and constant reminders of his passion for comics. I don’t entirely dislike Brian, but he sort of feels like a Not-So- Silent Bob in search of the Jay that Chris simply is not-- he’s much more Dante, to continue the Kevin Smith metaphor.

And that is the biggest weakness of the film—uneven dialogue. Or perhaps it’s actually too even—there’s little to no overlap, and that’s not how real conversations go. On stage, actors don’t tend to talk over each other, and I think some of those theatrical tendencies are evident in the film. My only other criticism is with the long comic shop scene where Rich puts on his Jack King glasses and participates in a comic signing at Kirby’s shop (comic fans surely spotted the references to industry legend Jack “King” Kirby a mile away). I’ve yet to find the point where “too much Zachary Allen Farmer” occurs—he’s consistently brilliant on stage and spot-on as the comic shop owner here—but the whole scene goes on way too long. Two full hours is a pretty long eulogy in any number of colors. If Wyatt Weed had backed off a little on the comic references to not distract from the more touching theme of coping with disease and death, the film might not have felt like two separate acts, ala the live stage.

That said, local cinéphiles and fans of the St. Louis theatre scene will find a lot to like and enjoy picking out familiar faces among the extras like Ryan Scott Foizey, Mike Dowdy and Evan Fornachon in the background or crowd shots, and people everywhere will find familiar moments that recall their own family or personal battles with mortality. It isn’t perfect, but it is certainly worth your time.