Marty (Alexander Reed) has lost his parents – and the big, old house is his. Unfortunately, the large Brooklyn structure is in supreme disrepair, and the bereaved son doesn’t have the funds for up-keep or to pay the existing bills. So he takes in a few squatters as a means to cover expenses, and they obviously don’t come headache free. The events in The Redeemables Part 1 are based on stories that have come out of the NYC landlord/tenant laws. A serious issue for sure, but Al Dubinsky’s 42 minute film won’t bring you down, and more importantly, will have no effect on your activism. Good laughs, and set up as an ongoing web series, going off the wall will be the way to go when these Redeemables comes again.
The comedic tone is quickly established upon setting down in a tranquil Brooklyn neighborhood. Three Evangelical Christians looking to proselytize are obviously out of place, and the Brooklyn native they come upon, accentuates the anomaly. Certain that life doesn’t exist in some great beyond or anywhere outside of his borough, Andrew Kelly’s portrayal is pure Brooklyn. So the native lets them have it, and off-center in their own right, the clash of civilizations allows the eclectic nature of the comedy to hit the ground running.
Moving on, the trio spreads the word to Marty, and he’s in no position to put aside their well wishes. “Please pray for me, I need all the help I can get – especially financial. So I can maintain this house.”
A shot in the dark, Marty is pretty ill-equipped, and the uncertainty Reed conveys lays another foundation. His parent’s safety net stagnated the development of the man and any and all comers are going to prove too much for him to handle. Of course, we’ll be the beneficiary as he tries to helplessly navigate the self-serving cast of characters.
The players now in place, the score rolls in. An upbeat, unsophisticated little twang, we are further eased into the dynamic and are pleasingly assured that things aren’t going to get very deep.
The Dubinsky cinematography provides a similar framing. With the characters appearing in scene, the backgrounds are still and bare. Thus, implying, that there’s very little depth to their existence. So what would be old hat for most, is a completely new experience. As a result, we get to enjoy while they turn the commonplace into humorous attempts to master the learning curve.
Nonetheless, we get a look at the family business that Marty has been left in charge of. An old school video porn shop with actual peep shows. The establishment plays for laughs by simply pretending to be a normal mom and pop store.
Reed works the denial magically, and the resulting semblance of normalcy gives the patrons a space to operate where no other exists in the known universe. In this, Adam P. Murphy absolutely kills as he loiters the locale, clad respectfully in a suit and tie, the juxtaposition enhances his pursuit of whatever creepy thrills he can get.
Far from done, the procession of oddball occupants continues, and Christine (Mesha Millington) picks up the slack. She works her way into Marty’s sphere when they meet in a chat room, and since Marty lacks a baseline of knowledge of how the world operates, she can freely admit her definition of influencer. “I just influence people to do whatever I want,” Millington asserts.
A believable boast, Millington really sells the entitled laziness of the millennial stereotype, and like that, Marty has a roommate. Of course, more are on the way. These include a shady Russian filmmaker (Gregory Korostishevsky), Marty’s on-again, off-again lesbian cousin (Sarah Turkavage), and Christine’s felonious brother (Ian Hayes), who laces his weed with gasoline.
So Marty is left trying to referee the situation, and his whistle never puts a stop on the eclectic group – who don’t even know they are fouling. Even better, the credit role is just as ineffective, and we’ll just have to endure the production pause as we eagerly wait for more.
