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The second act begins with the clean-up shift. Sam has returned from his brother’s wedding, and he tells the story of a movie theater outing wherein a series of unfortunate events led him to accidentally leave tamales under his seat, aligning him with the kind of people he resents as a theater worker. He expresses his discomfort with the “charade” (113) of his brother’s wedding, discussing the labor of pretending to be excited about something that disappoints you. Rose joins them and announces that their boss is planning to sell the theater and move to Tucson. Avery is sad to hear this news and worries the new theater will go digital. Rose asks Avery to cover her projection shift on Thursday, and Sam is enraged to discover that she has been training him to be a projectionist. He angrily scatters a bag of popcorn onto Avery’s side of the theater and leaves it for him to clean up.
The next shift is thick with an uncomfortable silence as Sam and Avery mop the floors without speaking. Avery leaves to clean the bathroom, allowing Sam and Rose to talk in private. Sam then confesses his love for Rose and asks her whether she likes him in return. Rose asks Sam what he wants to happen now, and he is forced to admit that he hadn’t considered that far in advance. Rose tells Sam that he doesn’t really love her because he doesn’t really know her and that he is only in love with an idea of who she is. Their conversation is cut short when Avery rushes back into the theater and tells them that that someone defecated in the men’s bathroom and smeared it on the walls. Sam takes charge of the situation, comforting Avery and telling him he will “take care of it” (128). While Sam is in the bathroom, Rose asks Avery not to tell Sam about what happened between the two of them on Friday night.
In a later scene, Sam asks Avery if he’s seen a funny video on Facebook. Avery explains that he hates Facebook because his mother used it to reconnect with her high school sweetheart, then left his father. Avery reads a letter-in-progress addressed to the new movie theater owner. The letter pleads with the new owner to keep the old projector instead of going digital.
The next scene marks the transition in management, which includes new fluorescent lights and different uniforms. Sam complains that the new theater owner won’t let him wear his Red Sox cap on the job. Sam and Rose awkwardly converse about Sam’s first date with an online girlfriend. Avery enters in a panic because the new owner has discovered their “Dinner Money” arrangement. Avery reports that the new owner blames the whole scheme on him and asks Sam and Rose to confess that it was their idea. Afraid for their jobs, they refuse to cover for him, saying that they need their jobs to make a living while Avery is just working there part-time while attending college. Sam inquires about the projector and Avery confirms that the new owner is switching to digital. Sam tries to assuage his guilt with the rationalization that Avery would’ve wanted to quit anyway. Avery, however, refuses him this satisfaction with an explosive recitation of Samuel L. Jackson’s Ezekiel 25:17 scene from Pulp Fiction. The verse is delivered as a bold indictment of both Sam and Rose in their complicity with his dismissal. Sam is near tears, deeply hurt by this speech. Rose pronounces, “That was awesome” (160).
In the following scene, Sam and Rose are shown removing the old projector and swiftly installing the digital projector. Sam is then shown training Skylar, a new employee, implying that Avery was fired. Skylar has experience from his job at a previous, large theater and already appears to know more than Sam. Sam seems to recognize that his job is in even greater danger, as Skylar could easily replace him. At one point, Skylar reaches up and brushes his hand over the movie screen. Sam is angered by this action, repulsed by the idea that someone would want to touch it.
In the final scene, Avery returns to the theater in street clothes. Sam gives him the old movie projector and reels as a kind of peace offering. Sam apologizes for allowing Avery to be fired. Avery thanks Sam for the gift, but initially remains cold toward his apology. Sam reaches out by attempting to start a round of “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.” At first, Avery leaves without responding, but he returns a few moments later and half-heartedly offers a few names. Avery departs, however, without responding to Sam’s final prompt, leaving the game unfinished. After Avery leaves, Sam sits alone in the theater for a moment, before turning off the lights and exiting.
Act II continues to examine the theme of life (and love) as performance, observing the stories we tell (or try to tell) about ourselves and their failure to live up to our cinematic expectations. When Sam’s story of leaving tamales under a theater seat fails to evoke his desired reaction, he confesses, “It all made more sense in my head […] It felt like some profound like realization and now I can’t remember what the realization was” (107-08). Sam also interrogates narrative expectations of love (via weddings) and the ultimate disappointment that results from our dishonest pretenses: “everyone always pretends the catering is so good! […] And I’m like: it was shitty! It was shitty lukewarm food cooked for 115 people!” (113). Much like the mediocre catering, the wedding itself is a one-size-fits-all illusion that doesn’t seem to fit Sam.
Sam’s illusions of love are brought into painful relief as he confesses his feelings for Rose, leading her to respond, “what do you think is gonna happen now?” (123). Rose suggests that Sam doesn’t really love her because he doesn’t know her; rather, he has fallen in love with an idea of her: a projection that is no more real than the images beamed onto the movie theater screen. She orders Sam to look at her, but he finds himself unable to do so in this pivotal moment, likely recognizing that he would have to confront the disparity between cinematic illusion and reality. Indeed, Sam’s feelings for Rose may stem, in part, from the belief that she is unattainable, a “lesbian” who wouldn’t be interested in him anyway, a specter who often operates, unseen and unheard, within a sealed booth far above him.
Sam’s elevation of cinematic illusion is further confirmed in the later scene when he trains Skylar. When Skylar touches the movie screen, Sam is deeply disturbed. Though the play leaves this moment open to interpretation, it suggests that Sam is afraid of disrupting the boundary between his daily work life and his projected fantasy life.
Avery’s own hopeful illusions—that the theater might keep the film projector, that Sam and Rose might be his true friends—are similarly shattered in Act II. When Sam and Rose refuse to stick up for him, they not only betray his trust but force him into a stereotype—the “black guy” presumed to be a thief—that doesn’t fit him at all. He responds with a powerful performance that wields this stereotype—commanding it as a kind of dark power—wherein his affect, language, and demeanor are transformed. Sam is deeply devastated and attempts to salvage their friendship, trying to assuage his guilt with the idea that Avery wouldn’t want to work in a digital theater anyway and offering up the film projector and film reels as a token farewell gift. Though Avery thanks Sam for the gift, he refuses him the satisfaction of ultimate resolution, citing the ending of Woody Allen’s Manhattan, where Mariel Hemmingway states, “‘You’ve gotta have a little faith in people’ and the music swells up,” explaining, “This is like the opposite of that ending” (174).
The play itself, however, ends with an intriguing sensation of ambivalence as Sam sits in one of the theater seats—the lone member of an audience—and turns his gaze upward before turning off the lights. When the room is dark, the music—the sweet, hopeful melody of “Vacances” from the film Jules et Jim—builds, leaving the viewer with numerous questions. Does this swelling of the music contradict Avery’s imagination of the ending? Or is this ending merely the articulation of Sam’s projected fantasy: an ideal cinematic world where such resolution is possible?