Sunday, November 1st 2026

Review by Autumn Sagal

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating for this production; my middle school theater kid self was so excited to get to review this musical for Eastside. I was introduced to 35MM through “The Ballad of Sara Berry,” a five minute pop-rock journey that chronicles a prom queen’s Carrie-esque descent into madness, and from then on I listened to the cast album front to back, feeling proud of my niche, edgy theater discovery. 35MM acts as the intersection between a song cycle and photography exhibition, with Ryan Scott Oliver using Matthew Murphy’s often abstract photography as a basis for melodic world building. Each song/photo pairing is its own contained story, making the themes covered throughout the whole program vast and emotionally diverse.

Given that 35MM was originally staged as a traditional concert backdropped by the show’s projected images, I was eager to find a stage littered with vintage picture frames and floating garlands of paper; no standing microphones in sight. When the cast made their first entrance with explosive choreography, I knew that this production would feature full-fledged storytelling, leading to a thoroughly entertaining night of theater. The beauty of this show stems from its ambiguity, its lack of linearity, which co-directors Billee Paige Harris and Sabine Anais took advantage of wonderfully. Using a distinct steampunk aesthetic, they created a world in which looking through the aforementioned frames wasn’t simply the observation of a moment, but instead a lesson in visibility, discovery, and the bending of time.

Rather than have Murphy’s images projected behind the performers during each number, versions of the photos were incorporated into the set, placed on easels and plastered on props, allowing the audience’s interpretation of the material to be shaped more by the artistic direction than the photos themselves. I was impressed by the creative team’s clear vision for each song, so much so that they changed my mind about some of the songs I hadn’t really cared for before.

The song “Good Lady” followed one actor, Benjamin Olivera, through what seemed to be a medieval hero’s journey before revealing that they were in fact in front of a computer and that the relationship they’d built in their head was purely digital. Writing the show about fifteen years ago, I don’t think Oliver could’ve anticipated today’s scope of internet culture or that the song could be interpreted as the detriment of such. Similarly, “Coralee,” a song I admit I might skip during a casual listen, morphed into more than just a song about a creepy doll. Come to life through a dress on a hanger, Coralee became a tangible character in her namesake song, one puppeteered by cast member Kit Whiter playing an exhausted babysitter desperate to rid themselves of the menace toddler.

My opinions didn’t change, however, on some of my favorite songs of the cycle, which were dazzling to hear live with a driving rock band. Placed right in the middle of the show, “Leave Luanne” is a haunting piece with folk influences that reads like a Southern gothic ghost story. The subtle hand and head movements the trio of performers repeated throughout the song, combined with the manipulation of a rope to create boundaries and boxes out of thin air, exemplified the labor and abuse the song depicts. While the song may not have a happy ending, watching the performers portray the song’s eerie climax utilizing shadow work was a satisfying visual experience of its own.

On stage for the entirety of the show’s 75 minute run time and constantly juggling precise, energetic movementre with complicated vocal harmonies, I want to commend the entire cast of 35MM for their stamina and dedication. Connecting with audiences is hard enough without the challenge of the story rapidly switching every couple of minutes. Yet, between all of the lighting tricks, riffs, miming, leaps, and lifts, the emotional core of each song remained present and accessible to the audience.

Ultimately, the energy emanating from Two Dogs Theater Co’s production was everything you want local theater to be; joyful, innovative, collaborative, and full of heart. From the abundant cheers and encouragement I heard throughout the night, it’s clear that the audience agreed, rallying around the performance as a community. From the stage’s atmosphere to the performers to live band, it’s evident that so much care was poured into this musical and that the talent involved in this collective are ones to follow closely. With 35MM marking the theater company’s inaugural production, I’m excited to see the scale and direction at which Two Dogs Theater grows creatively, as well as whatever they produce next.