In the land of opportunity, the pursuit of happiness is a daily killer.
When you migrate to the United States to pursue the American Dream, no one explains to you about the small print. You might not even realize there is a small print until you have achieved your dreams and you wake up one day realizing those are the dreams of someone else- the person you no longer are. Nick and Rose seemingly have what they set out to get: a beautiful abode in Beverly Hills, a pool, a happy child, good relations with the neighbors. But their success is a wedge dividing them, driving itself further in with every glass of wine, every unspoken word, every Sunday Evening.
Nick (Logan Hulick ) is an ex-boxer (which could be short-hand for bruisers that were employed by 90s Bulgarian mafia), who now deals with activities that bring the family lots of money. Rose (Rachel Sepiashvili), his wife, is unhappy and has begun to wonder if every aspect of her life has been a grave mistake. The catalyst is the discovery of love letters of an unconsummated love affair. The witness is Stella (Maria Margaglione), of some mild 80s film fame, who happens to be the couple’s next door neighbor and friend. But we’ll put a ping on her for a moment. Lots can happen on a Sunday Evening, and it does, from sharing painful memories to indecent exposure, from Turkish coffee premonitions, (in this writer’s view, a neat use of a foreshadowing tool), to dancing in the living room. Even the cops make an appearance, if only to keep us reminded of the broader social commentary on excessive police force. Sprinkle in a few flashback scenes, and playwright Zachary Karabashliev skillfully sneaks in the tragedy happening next door. Which brings us back to neighbor Stella.
