The Flick by Annie Baker

Scenes for Study

Annie Baker’s The Flick won the 2013 Obie Award and the 2014 Pulitzer Prize for drama, so its literary merit can’t be argued. Baker also has a very particular style that seemed, in 2014, to be the way that dramatic literature was turning. There are lots of pauses and repeated words. There’s also lots of long business with no dialogue at all. It’s very naturalistic and she doesn’t seem super preoccupied with traditional dramatic structure. As it turns out, dramatic literature a decade later has turned more towards Fabulism and poetic language (imho) than toward Naturalism, but The Flick still offers a lot to work with for actors who want to explore the genre. I honestly found it kind of refreshing and different on this read, and I found some nice pieces that I think I’ll be able to use in my directing class in the fall and in other upcoming class work.

The Flick takes place in one of the last 35mm movie theatres, where a young Black man who loves film comes to work with a couple of older movie theatre veterans who perhaps care more about the paycheck than about the ideals of cinema. It’s about the end of an era, and it’s eerie reading it ten years later in a world where film screenings only happen in Imax theaters at the Science Center and movie theatre seats recline and warm your butt. Baker anticipated the shift to digital, but MoviePass and Covid also made (and accelerated) big changes in the movie theatre industry since this play was written.

But it’s only partially about the movies, right? The play also tackles issues of race, ability, and class. The characters are well-intentioned but ultimately flawed, and for the most part they’re pretty young. Is Baker the best person to tell us about race? No. But she’s writing from a pre-BLM world and she’s tackling intersectional issues head-on, and I think it holds up ok. It’s complicated and thoughtful — great for student work. Here are a few noteworthy scenes that I clipped. Page numbers are from the 2014 TCG edition.

Scene Two

Pages 14-21, Avery and Sam

Avery, a 20-year-old Black man and Sam, a 35-year-old white man, are cleaning up the theatre after a movie, which is what they do on almost every shift. However, this time, Avery was late for reasons which will be revealed later in the play. He lies to Sam about his excuse, giving the actor lots of rich subtext to dig into — lying is always a good challenge. Sam is underpaid and taken advantage of in just about everything he does, so he’s particularly sensitive about having to do Avery’s share of the work when Avery doesn’t show. There’s also some exposition, but Baker works it in very naturally, and I think the scene is still playable. Of course, one actor needs to be Black, and the other is a bit older than I would typically ask a college student to play, but it’s not off the table for me.

Scene Six

Pages 62-66, Avery

This is a phone conversation between Avery and his therapist. It centers on him telling the story of one of his dreams, which doesn’t make for the most motivated monologue, but in Baker’s style it feels right. This dream, and sharing it with another person, forces Avery to confront his fears and his depression, and it highlights the themes of nostalgia and loss running through the play. Plus, it’s long, which gives you the flexibility to cut it to whatever length works for you.

Scene Eight (Part B)

Pages 91-101, Avery and Rose

In this scene, Rose, a 24-year-old white woman, and Avery are watching a movie together after hours. Rose has just sexually assaulted Avery, and Avery was unable to get an erection, which stopped Rose and was embarrassing for Avery. All of that does happen onstage, so you have the option to cut the scene so it all stays in, but for the sake of class I wanted to start after the sexual assault and worry less about intimacy design and avoiding trauma for everyone involved. It’s still a ten page scene, which is more than long enough for my purposes. The scene starts off as awkward and embarrassing for both of them, but the attempt at sex ends up leading to a much more intimate moment emotionally for both of them as they try to process why the event just happened, and happened the way it did. At the end of the scene, Avery has a monologue in which he confesses to attempted suicide. This monologue could also be used on its own, or it could remain part of the scene.

Act Two, Scene Two

Pages 119-126, Sam and Rose

Throughout the play, Sam talks consistently about his crush on Rose, and this is the scene in which he finally reveals that crush to Rose herself. It is PAINFUL. He gives a long speech about this crush without making eye contact with her and she accuses him of not really knowing her at all. He really has a crush on the idea of her more than having a crush on her in reality. Situations like this one feel dangerous for the woman involved. She never knows what the man will do if he’s rejected. Of course, confessions of love also involve high-stakes feelings, especially when the character in question has been overlooked so often and so consistently. The stakes are high for both characters, which makes for a great scene to work on. The bulk of the speaking falls to Sam, but Rose has enough to be respectable, and she has a lot to work against in her reactions and presence.

With that, you have a scene for each combination of characters in the play! These scenes involve a willingness to sit in silence and would probably be best with more advanced students, but they give a great taste of Annie Baker’s style and are well worth the efforts!

Up Next On My Reading List:

Disgraced by Ayad Akhtar

The Labrynth of Desire by Caridad Svich

Mr. Hemingway by Kevin Kautzman

Thanks for reading! Let me know what I should check out next!