Oh the innocence of getting together in a dorm room, and with dreams of stardom, creating an unpolished piece of comedy or drama. Even better if the collective graduates to fine tune the work, but just because they’ve gotten older doesn’t necessarily mean the collaborators have matured. So says Ricardo Lorenzo’s The Super Exciting Gang, and you’ll be in no position to disagree in joyfully digressing through this 18 minute comedy.
Initially, The Super Exciting Gang was a comic book, and David (Marcus Ellison) seems to be the guiding force behind the idea. He’s also the only grown-up among the five person collective.
Maybe that’s why he walked away. A possible mistake, since the project has flowered and gone onto a definite measure of success. They’ve got themselves a nice little episodic stream, and the franchise is about to put out a video game.
So David seeing the error of his ways, he wants back in. Of course, it takes a huge swallow of pride, and Ellison’s restrained delivery conveys the sentiment.
Up to the man in charge, Anthony Carvello plays Murphy, and the idea of an air-headed executive doesn’t really break new ground. But so what, Carvello is really good at it.
Overseeing the gaggle, Murphy has no idea that his creative abilities are next to zero, and this producer’s oblivious traverse alongside his writers has Carvello playing a perfect duality. The actor projects a knowing scribe or sage who isn’t aware that he’s an empty shell, and the laughs definitely follow.
He’s not much of a leader either. Without even a pinky on the pulse, Murphy doesn’t take into account the impact of adding David and his history to the already fragile writing team.
First and foremost, Trevor (Ian Schulz) has all the makings. Moody, temperamental and not afraid to down a drink to his insecurity, he quickly marks his territory.
After David praises Trevor’s writing on the project, Trevor does not take kindly. Thus, Schulz sears with a look of disdain and then cuts with his words. “I know, that’s why I’m the head writer,” Trevor’s undeserved arrogance prevails through Schulz’s delivery.
In accompaniment, the simple guitar plucks of the film’s score reinforces the childhood all around and almost makes the punchlines all by itself.
Moving on nonetheless, David tries his luck with Lynn (Sabina Almeida). A social justice warrior, Almeida exudes a white guilt that is probably just a mask for her writer’s block. Either way, the actress gives us a cognitive dissonance that keeps us dialed into her part of this mess.
And finally, there is RJ (Thea Garlid) who is at the crossroads. RJ is not sure if they should continue the career path they’re on and is torn between two loves – the wife and Lynn. As a result, RJ is falling apart at the seams, and added to the mix, the whole dynamic puts David in the eye of the hurricane. In this, the Lorenzo edits between David and the orbiting planets ricochets the humor like a game of pinball.
But David is also like his collaborators. He too is mired in a double-edged situation. In one sense, Ellison comes across like a therapist who is all ears to the fragility of his cohorts. On the other hand, when the walls of his pseudo office break down, the actor’s subtle digs demean on a massive level.
Almost like Ellison is playing both the straight man and the comic, our laugh track is richly rewarded. At the same time, he’s also split down the middle like all artists. Does he care about the purity of his work or putting food on the table?
Only the 18th minutes will tell, and the culminating punchline will raise the roof for anyone who has ever tried to navigate this well traveled path.
