Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Cast: Paul Carmichael, Chris Chapman, Thomas Williams, Siobhan Crinson, Adam Sheldon, Arron Hussein, Thomas Atkinson, Dan Haydock, Hannah Gill, Hevv Jamieson, Talulah Pritchard, Sarah Allen, Naomi Lambert, Sarah Moore, Louise Froggatt, James Keysell, Jack Mitchell, Philip Milor, Olivia Murphy, Steven Quinn, Martin Williams, Dan Broom, Kate Bleasdale, Connor Lawler, Sian Woods, Denise Webb, Angela Wilkins, Brittany Macrae, Simone Murphy, Lisa Symonds, Jackie Jones, Sam Liu, Lee Burnitt, Daniel Mugan, Dorcas Sebuyange, Anthony Scott, Rebecca Eve, Philip Laing, Caitlin Clough, Freya Balchin, Alison Philips, Aaron Kehoe, Jack Spencer, Rhea Little, Tasha Ryan, Thomas Whittaker, Jean Paul Marie, Jamie Peacock, Fleet Sumner, Stewart McDonald.

There is something immensely satisfying about a local theatre company taking their product, their big idea and putting it on for everybody to see on the big screen of the local independent cinema. Never mind the National Theatre bringing the latest opulent affair, the most modern take of a story and putting it on with grand flourish to the point of excess; the grassroots is where it begins. In PurpleCoat, a theatre company that has put on so much good work in the city of Liverpool, which has thrilled and entertained so many, to see them bring their latest production, Sad. Man. Smiling. to the forefront of the weekly cinematic experience is heartening and life affirming.

Both PurpleCoat and Karl Falconer have done so much over the last six years that it is possible to see them, and rightly so, as being part of the furniture in the local mechanics of a vibrant, culture filled city. Yet, Sad. Man. Smiling. takes the approach of the theatrical production on one further stage and arguably asks the question of why in a city filled with so much working knowledge, why when the Liver Birds that look out to sea and keep a keen eye on in the streets below, isn’t there the thought of cinema and theatre combining on a more frequent scale in the city that is the true home of outstanding culture. PurpleCoat have shown that it is possible; perhaps it’s time to truly step out from the velvet curtain and shout with undeniable assurance, that Liverpool is pre-dominant in all things cultural.

For Sad. Man. Smiling. is the starting point, a film shot, not just with great affection by the cast, a cast that shows the superb talent that resides in the city and which flourishes because of the nurturing love shown by various committed theatre companies but also by the abundance of theatre in the city. From the Everyman to the Unity Theatre and the productions that go on in John Moores and the University of Liverpool, from the Playhouse, Royal Court, L.I.P.A. to the likes of Grin Theatre and the Lantern, there is no end of possibilities and Karl Falconer has shown it is possible.

The short film deals with a washed up actor, Peter Pacino, and his struggle to get out from the murky depths of debt and the association of receiving four Oscars before turning 21 will do to a soul. It is that soul that finds itself in trouble as the much mooted Zombie Apocalypse interferes with his return to cinema, with a film about a Zombie Apocalypse. Peter Pacino, washed up, ridiculed by television announcers and out in the field reporters and seemingly hated enough by his own mother, becomes the hero, one not adverse to making sure that the herd of Zombies following him chew on someone else rather than his film tarnished hide, but still the last man standing.

It is a testament to the faith of the project that no matter which part was played, whether in the background as one of the merciless Zombies or indeed a speaking role, such as portrayed by Paul Carmichael, Jack Spencer or Jackie Jones, the film catered to the entire ethos laid down by PurpleCoat, everybody gets noticed.

Sad. Man. Smiling. is more than an amusing tale in which has won admirers for its charismatic approach, it truly should be seen as the staging post for other theatre companies to bring their shows to yet another medium, the homegrown has never felt so appealing.

Ian D. Hall.