Theatre, Sports, and Comradery with John R. Smith JNR.
After recently moving to a new province, I've been thinking a lot about community and, if I'm being honest, loneliness and how to meet new people as an adult. Not being one for mom groups, I've been researching other ways to connect with people (which sounds sad to type out) and have realized just how common loneliness is.
Despite being more connected than ever, we as a society also seem more miserable than ever. Technology, financial pressures, politics, and an aging population contribute to feelings of isolation for many people. On top of this, (obvious statement time!) society has become incredibly divided. Many women would rather cross paths with a bear on a hiking trail than a man, and well, every other issue that's happening in the world that I don't dare type about lest an army of social media bots overrun this site. With women and men increasingly reluctant to socialize with each other and the closure of both men’s and women’s spaces on the rise, loneliness is becoming more pervasive and seemingly unstoppable. Fraternal organizations like the Odd Fellows Club or the Masons, which are still accessible to working-class people, struggle to attract new members, as evidenced by the outdated member photos on their websites.
All of this is my long-winded way of saying that I finally understand why we need sports: for the community. I have never been someone who understood sports. It's not how my brain is wired. I wanted to understand but just didn't—until I watched the film EEPHUS, directed by Carson Lund. EEPHUS takes the trope of a ragtag baseball team and turns it on its head by focusing on the individuals and their connections with one another rather than the game itself. More specifically, it's about a beer league baseball team playing their last game before their beloved field, their third place, is demolished. It's a coming-of-age movie for adults who have already come of age.
Actor John R. Smith Jnr., one of the ensemble cast members of EEPHUS, sat down with Haus of Fog to discuss the similarity between sports and theatre and the importance of community in an increasingly fragmented world.
John R. Smith Jnr., second from the right. Photo is property of Film Constellation.
I hope this doesn’t come across the wrong way, but I’ve got to ask: do you feel that having a name like John Smith has helped or hindered you as an actor? It’s memorable and has the same cadence as the name Brad Pitt, but also, well, it sounds made up and makes me think you’re actually a secret agent. (Full disclosure, I was named after a soap opera character and Ashley was literally the most popular name of my birth year.)
No worries. Growing up with an alias for a name, you learn to either laugh about it or give yourself an ulcer getting mad about it. I usually get a Pocahontas reference for good measure. Tanya and I got married the year the Disney movie was released, so we had them on our wedding cake instead of a generic bride and groom. At least that’s the story WitSec made me memorize when they assigned the name to me.
But to answer the actual question, I don’t think it’s done much in either direction as an actor, aside from teeing up obvious jokes for casting directors. So, it’s at least a great icebreaker. Also, I really appreciate being mentioned in the same sentence as Brad Pitt. Hopefully, he’s the type who Googles himself and he finds us. Hi Brad! Have your people call mine!**
What was your favourite moment while filming EEPHUS?
EEPHUS, directed by Carson Lund. Photo is property of Film Constellation.
My gods. So many options here: listening to Bill Lee’s baseball stories, actually hitting an eephus off him (a solid grounder to second but still got Bill’s kudos), watching Keith & Wayne’s insane scene and trying not to laugh during the takes, my daily dugout naps, creating a scene on the fly for a local kid who wandered to the set, family dinners/horror movies/poker/playoffs at the player’s lodge ... but if I have to pick only one, I’d go with the cast & crew pickup game.
During shooting, the cast would play catch, take fielding practice and such while the crew would set up for the next shot. As each day wrapped, the crew wanted in on the game more and more. So about halfway through the shoot, we all got together at Soldier’s Field and left the cameras off.
That game came to echo the film in a way. As the October sun slowly set, none of us wanted to stop, and rigging lights was briefly considered. We knew wrap was closer than the start, and our jovial afternoon of beer drinking, shit talking, and fly balls became our celebration of found family as we faced the inevitable end.
Do you prefer to play more “lone wolf” type characters like Bernie in The Woodsman, or act in ensemble films like in Eephus?
They exercise such different skill sets, it’s tough to say. I loved having to fill in all the blanks in myself for Bernie: my line, the reaction of the camera’s character, and then my reaction to that, and so on. And since it was my first real film gig, I did all that while constantly reminding myself to not spike the camera.
In an ensemble film like Eephus, no matter how close you stick to the script, you get some unexpected/unscripted moments playing off another actor. And given the experienced comedy chops in the cast and our chemistry, Carson gave us some freedom to ad lib, generating some wonderful moments and one-liners. So I don't have a real preference. I just love to play. Always have since I was a kid.
Are you a big sports guy? And if so, how would you compare sports to your time in the theatre world?
I was when I was younger. I played baseball and football through middle school, dabbled (poorly) in basketball in elementary school, and swam competitively through high school. I used to watch those sports on TV as well, plus hockey, tennis, soccer, and rugby. As parenthood set in and adulting progressed over the years, I pruned my sports tree down to two: baseball and soccer. Over the past couple years between acting, my day job, and planning weddings, anniversaries, and the like, I’ve been more out of touch with those two than I’d like.
They're also the best parallel to working in live theatre, IMO. You’ve got your manager (director) & base/bench coach (stage manager) who work with you through practice/training (rehearsals) to hone your skills (acting) and game plan (blocking/script) for your next game/match (performance). Then on Game Day (Opening Night), it’s pretty much in the hands of the team (cast) to execute the plan on their own and cover each other if things get off track. The coaching staff watches from the dugout/touchline (backstage/booth/back row) making notes of what to work on at the next practice. Your scoreline is how loud the applause is for curtain call, and how much your audience grows over the show’s run as word spreads. In short – while there are moments of individual achievement, at its core – theatre is a team sport.
EEPHUS, directed by Carson Lund. Photo is property of Film Constellation.
You have an incredible theatre career under your belt (30 years in, I believe??). What inspired you to begin acting in indie films?
Thanks. Yes, next year will be 30 since I moved to CT and did my first show here. We took a hiatus in the middle somewhere to focus on raising our kids, and I came back to it 12 years ago. I was just happy to be on stage. Then we stumbled into the sequence of events that led to starting Vagabond. I thought that was it. We’d found the place that fates had led us. Enter 2020... We were coming off an extended, sold-out run of Four Weddings and an Elvis that Tanya directed for a local playhouse, and two weeks later we were in lockdown.
Films were able to pivot and implement safety protocols quickly without needing audience protocols. So they started back up a whole lot faster than stages. Towards the end of the year, a friend of ours sent me an audition notice with the note “you'd be perfect for this.” I showed T and she said, “So when is it?” Jokingly I said, “I don’t do film. I'm a stage guy.” She said, “Theatres have been closed all year. You’re bored. Just do it.”
So I rigged a tripod out of a step ladder and some books, clamped a couple of Home Depot work lights to it, pinned a blue blanket to the wall, borrowed my daughter’s phone, and filmed the melancholy lament of a drunken Christmas tree salesman to his dead father that would change the direction of my career entirely. I filmed Woodsman that March, and by the end of 2021, I was all-in on film work, with Eephus booked for the following October. I know I’ve been extremely fortunate. I’ve worked on over 20 projects since that Woodsman audition and have two more filming later this year.
For me, the best part of indie film is the community. Do you remember what it felt like on your first film set? Was there an instant feeling of “yes, these are my people?”
I emphatically agree. Everyone is there for the joy of the work and belief in the project. You don’t often get a cast and crew relationship like we had on Eephus, where everything just clicks on all cylinders from the jump, but you do get that collaborative vibe. And yes, I certainly remember the moment I saw Bernie’s trailer as I pulled into that church parking lot. All of a sudden, it was all real. Until then, I had done only a couple of tiny roles as favors for friends. Now I was about to lead a movie. That feeling of connection only took about 20 minutes for everything to fall into place. Mostly me finally settling my nerves.
It was different with Eephus, though. I had a solid year of film work behind me at that point. So meeting the rest of the cast as we all arrived at the player’s lodge, I didn’t have much in the way of nerves. That click was instantaneous. For all of us. You can see it on the screen. If we didn't have that lodge, I don’t think we get the same film. So yeah, Indie film folks are as much my people as indie theatre are.
What can you tell us about your work with the Vagabond Theatre Co?
Unfortunately, there's not a lot new to talk about right now. We still haven’t reopened post-Covid, mostly because I've been so busy with films. We’ve kicked around the idea of bringing back the Christmas show, but the timing hasn’t been right for us personally. In the past, we’ve staged plays that deal with mental illness, physical and mental abuse, bullying, homophobia, theocratic misogyny, racism, and criminal justice reform. We don’t often even have shoestring budgets, just an aglet. So we black box every damn thing. Very minimal staging. Lights, sound, and the occasional table or chair. With no budget for spectacle, we avoid musicals. The closest we get is our Christmas show, It’s a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play. Which also ticks the social awareness box with its distinct anti-capitalist bend. We’ll get there, but not having our own space puts us at others’ mercy. So, we bounce from stage to stage performing socially conscious works that we hope will make audiences laugh, cry, and think. It’s hard, fast, cheap, with righteous anger at injustice. So, punk rock theatre if you will.
Every relationship, whether collaborative or romantic, needs a balance of energy. You happen to be a Creative Director, alongside your wife Tanya, for the Vagabond Theatre Co! What is that like? Do you tend to have similar visions, or do you tackle projects from different angles?
T is absolutely my counterweight. I’m an actor first and foremost, so I consider a show to stage same as I breakdown a script to perform. I identify with a character and chart their emotional beats, character arcs and the like. It’s only after I read it a couple times that way that I can get a bird’s-eye-view of it. T reads plays like a director. She can see the whole scene form as she’s reading from page one. She’s also much more in tune with how to resonate with the audience. I’m usually tied more to how I want to present the message of the piece. T focuses on how to best ensure that message is heard.
As an example: we both directed Wonderful Life in successive years. Mine was 5 actors, an SFX guy, and dirgy 1940’s Christmas music for scene transitions. I had the cast focus on conveying the bleak, capitalistic, darkness George endures until his realization that every life is interwoven with each other, and that kindness of community will always win over money-worshipping greed. It’s a powerful statement piece wrapped up in vintage holiday kitsch.
Tanya’s the following year had 10 actors and 2 sound guys, a rockabilly soundtrack, more focus on the interplay of the actors off mic, as they played George’s story with a lighter heart. The same anti-greed message wrapped in bright colors and upbeat music to make it easier to swallow. Needless to say, hers sold better and was far more entertaining, but we didn't expect how many people after seeing hers said, they’d never realized how anti-corporate the movie was. Like Mary Poppins, she knows how to best sugarcoat the medicine she’s giving you.**
I don’t want this to sound sexist, but I feel like many young men who may be looking for community and friendships might not immediately consider theatre. Do you have any words of advice, or perhaps persuasion, to get more young men involved in theatre?
Not sexist at all. It’s one of the biggest laments of theatre directors I’ve heard over the years: “I have all these ingenues but no young men!!! Why can’t I get 20-something guys to audition?!? <Profound weeping noises>” If I could solve this issue, they might build a statue to me.
We’ve made strides since I was a kid, but there are still many misguided souls trying to bring back the stigma that men exploring an emotion or expressing empathy makes you weak or effeminate. That stifling artistic interests and pushing sports and guns is the way to be more manly. It’s utter bullshit, but people still buy into it. When what we need to help them understand is that only through empathy do you truly connect with other people. You find a new or extend your current family. Occasionally, the project you’re working on captures lighting in a bottle. Where every little thing seems to fall your way, even if at first, it doesn’t look that way.
That creates even deeper bonds. T’s production of Cuckoo’s Nest literally ran during a planetary alignment. You could feel it every night. I’d walk through fire for anyone on that show. I felt that energy again on Soldier’s Field. The tightest cast and crew I’ve worked with. We got along so well and worked with such mutual respect. Three days in and I felt like I’d known them my whole life. I’d walk back through that fire for all of ‘em.
Learn more about John’s work at Johnrsmithjnr.com or follow him on social media at @johnrsmithjnr
To invite EEPHUS to screen at your festival, contact Isaac Davidson at isaac@cineticmedia.com
ASHLEY GOOD
Ashley Good is the brains behind Haus of Fog. After directing the Foggy Isle Film Festival, which shone a spotlight on dark/horror indie shorts for the past five years, she decided to launch Haus of Fog to better reach her niche of fellow film weirdos. You can learn more about her work at ashleygood.ca.
Instagram: @ashleyegood | Youtube: @ashleyegood