Every summer, the Edinburgh Fringe Festival is promiscuous with theater, every nook and cranny of the historic city crammed with experimental works, most of them with a cross-cultural pedigree. If you want to get a sampling of what that feels like, you should head over to Arlene’s Grocery on Manhattan’s Lower East Side and take in “Stop the Tempo.” There are only five performances left — on June 14, 15, 16, and 18 — but it’s worth the trip downtown.
The Origin Theatre Company, George Heslin’s adventurous group dedicated to premiering European works in America, is presenting this 65-minute drama by Gianina Carbinariu about disaffected Romanian youth. The interactive space usually dedicated to rock performances is the perfect venue as the three actors — Olivia Horton, Reuben Barsky, and Sarah Silk— weave among the tables with a clarifying anger at the world they’ve inherited. In the play, directed by Matt Torney, the over stimulation of capitalistic consumerism after the stultifying reign of Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu sends the trio into a series of pranks which morph into terrorism.
The attractive and talented cast is the main reason to see the production, especially Barsky, who has the dangerous energy of a young Mark Ruffalo. This is the 23-year-old actor’s professional debut, after a having been discovered by Heslin and Torney in a showcase at the American Academy of Dramatic Art. The Philadelphia-born actor, who is also a member of the Amoralists, one of New York’s youngest off-Broadway companies, is fairly typical of hundreds of actors who are trying to gain a foothold in the theater world, doing readings, showcases, and workshops for little or no money. Barsky recently spoke with ARTINFO’s Patrick Pacheco about “Stop the Tempo” and his “first real paying gig” as an actor.
This is a play by a 36-year-old Romanian writer. Did you do much research into the club scene in Bucharest?
The Romanian aspect does come into it, the tremendous political change that they’ve gone through and their identity crisis. But I think it’s more universal to us. We can relate to those adolescent feelings of not belonging. I know I’ve always felt like an alien, not able to fit in. We are now faced with such an eclectic mix of choices in the 21st century that it’s even more difficult to pinpoint where one belongs.
What comes through is the anger. Is that fun to play?
Oh, yeah, all that resentment toward society. No problem with that. My character comes from a broken home, he’s a failed DJ, and his girlfriend has left him for someone else. Anger, neglect, resentment. I’ve had my days. You can focus a lot of emotions through anger. It’s one of the easiest to connect with because it’s so simple and clear.
Like these characters, have you had the impulse to disconnect entirely from the world?
Absolutely. I can stay in my apartment in Bushwick all day long. Life just seems pointless. We’re moving in a direction and there’s no purpose. But at the end of the day, I don’t think that’s true. I saw a great documentary about the homeless. And someone asked them why they go on. And one person said, “Because I believe I have a purpose. I don’t know what it is. But I believe I have one.” I think it takes a lot of trying. And a lot of failing.
How have your audiences been at Arlene’s Grocery?
I’d been there before just hanging out at the bar, but it feels great to be acting there. Sometimes we play before six people, sometimes before 80. But no matter how many, they’re anxious to go on the ride with you.
How long are you going to give yourself to make it as an actor?
A friend of mine studies experts and he says that it takes 10 years for a profession to sink in — whether you’re a plumber, an electrician, a professor, or an actor. Ten years of studying and experience to become a true expert in your field. Actors have an uphill battle because we’re not always working. But I’d say there’s definitely a 10-year rule.
And so in 2023, do you figure you’ll re-assess the situation?
I hope I won’t have to.