Lapsis: Low-key sci-fi packs a punch

A man walks through the forest, a wheeled cart trailing behind him. Cable spools off of it and onto the mossy ground, overlapping with a tangle already lying there. He sits down, exhausted, but his phone begins to play a blaring alarm sound, flashing red. "Rest denied," it says. "Rest denied." It repeats until he picks himself up and carries on.

You might not have heard of Lapsis, but that doesn't mean it's not worth your time. This movie is an indie standout that's been recognized with awards and raving reviews. Though it has its flaws, it also has a compelling story and a distinct atmosphere.

The film dives into a mysterious new industry: "cabling," where workers lay cable between huge metal cubes in the forest. This service is necessary to drive the new “quantum computing” revolution and the huge strides in the stock market it has borne. On that level, it's a strange, almost absurd idea: hardly one to build a film around. Fortunately, though, that's not the level on which this film operates. Little time is spent explaining the implications of the industry on its customers, and far more on the workers who make it possible. In Lapsis, main character Ray Tincelli (Dean Imperial) is faced with a relatable problem: medical debt for his brother Jamie (Babe Howard.) Lacking a job or insurance to pay the exorbitant prices, he turns to the newest trend in employment, cabling. He gets in touch with some shady connections to get in, and heads out to the woods. The environment he finds is one that is modeled on the rise of independent contracting and which mirrors the “gig economy”-- companies like Uber, Grubhub, and others. The similarities are obvious: Ray must supply his own equipment, does not receive insurance, and is paid for each trip he makes via an app. This makes the movie all the more believable as an alternate conception of the present rather than a leap into the future; if cabling was necessary, there seems no doubt that the rest would be a consequence. However, Ray soon has more immediate problems than corporate exploitation. Fellow cablers seem hostile, and he can't discover why. Automation is being constantly refined to outstrip human cablers and thwarts any attempt to stop it. Tension is growing, and so is the movie's ideological message. In one particularly pithy scene, Ray stumbles out of the forest and onto a golf course, dirty and tired, cabling gear in hand. A pair of clean-cut, undoubtedly wealthy golfers stare at him for a moment. He stares back. And then, without a word, he returns to the forest and the story goes on. From here on, the political themes of the movie are put in the spotlight even more, even as the plot grows less engaging and more confusing. This second part, though it moves the story along at a brisker pace, lacks the subtle and satirical element that makes the first so enjoyable; so much so that it at one point delves into explicit discussion of the problems with the free market. However, viewers will be left with questions about both the movie and their own world. In an interview with Matt Warren on the website Film Independent, Noah Hutton -- who wrote, directed, edited, and scored the film -- commented on its modern take on sci-fi. “I’m pretty much wrapped up in using sci-fi as a kind of way to tease out the dynamics that are already here and now,” Hutton said. “It’s a great way to look at the present, just to kind of sidestep into what we call a ‘parallel present.’ ” Another standout feature of the film is Imperial’s lead performance. Hutton commented on Imperial’s positive reception in another interview, with Stephen Saito of the blog Moveable Fest. “I wrote the film for Dean Imperial to portray Ray, which sounds a little crazy because Dean had never been in a feature film before,” Hutton said. “He had been in one short film ten years ago, so I knew him as a friend and I knew he had leading man energy.” In a way, the cast’s under-the-radar nature carries on the immersion of this film. There are no big stars, and thus viewers likely have no prior impressions of the actors. Our perception of them is filled in entirely by this one performance, so much so that it’s hard to mentally separate the actor from the character. As the protagonist, Imperial exemplifies this. Lapsis is low-budget, low-concept, and low-octane and still manages to be worth the 1:48 runtime. Its best moments soar high above its humble origins, and even the worst parts aren't enough to drag it down. This distinctively down-to-earth approach to sci-fi emphasizes humanity over fantastical technology, and the result is an immersive and thought-provoking piece. -- TL;DR: Lapsis is a critique of modern America from the beginning -- calling attention to the dangers of the gig economy, worker exploitation, healthcare costs, and the class divide. Despite a weaker second half, it remains a compelling and suspenseful story of the worst parts of modern capitalism, and it works as a unique sci-fi flick as well. -- At a glance:

Movie: Lapsis Summary: In a "parallel present" in New York, workers with modern struggles face exploitation by automation and the gig economy. Starring: Dean Imperial, Madeline Wise, Babe Howard Writer/Director/Editor/Composer: Noah Hutton Where to watch: iTunes, Vudu, or Fandango Rating: Not Rated. Some strong language. Not much adult content, but the message and plot will likely go over kids' heads. Star rating: ★★★★☆ Website: www.lapsisfilm.com

Beginning Again: My 2021 Cross Country Season

It was a cool, breezy evening in Crystal Lake Park in south Corvallis. I stood in a small, masked group of high school boys. On my side were eight in white and blue shorts and tank tops; the other half wore black and red. Perfect contrast for two rival cross country teams. 

The teams were Corvallis High School—my running home for four years—and Crescent Valley, our intra-city competition. The day was March 3. A year of disruption had led us here, to the first race of the season, which should have been back in September. In mere seconds, we would be off on a looping 5k race through the park.

Let's back up.

It was over a year ago -- March 13, 2020 -- when the first blow hit. We learned that we could no longer meet for track practice. None of us expected to be out for long -- a couple weeks, we told ourselves, and we'll be back. But soon after the announcement the season was cancelled. 

From then on, the Oregon School Athletic Association seemed to be toying with us. There would be a cross country season. No, there wouldn't. We could meet in masks -- but three weeks later we could no longer meet at all. Finally a decision was made. We were given the distant starting date of late February. It felt strange, it felt wrong, but it was something.

We started meeting again in December, with the OSAA’s blessing. Once again we spent our cold mornings and afternoons running together on the wealth of Corvallis trails and paths. There was a sense of fragility, the learned knowledge that the season we had been given could be taken away. But still it was a hopeful time, laden with all the hopes of the months before.

This time around it was here to stay. By mid-January, the excitement had returned. Soon, we said, we'd be back to racing. And we were, on the quiet March evening as the sun dipped into swaying branches of trees.

The gun went off. We were finally racing. I took the lead early, going out fast and trying to hang on. A pack of three CV runners followed me, gradually closing the gap over the second mile — though, of course, I didn’t know it at the time. With a thousand meters left, one of them pulled ahead to pass me. I tried to catch him as the finish line neared, but my legs were dying from the quick start. He went on to beat me by five seconds, though I set a personal record of 16:49, 18 seconds faster than my previous best.

When the scores were tallied, Crescent Valley had beaten us handily, with all five scorers in the top six. This was expected—they’ve had the upper hand in the rivalry for years—and it didn't disappoint us as we walked back over the grass to leave. Nothing so small as defeat could impinge on the joy we felt in being back.

The season that this race began—and my last season of high school—is over now. I kept improving, peaking at 16:30 before a minor hip strain led to a disappointing finish. Now I move on to track, and after that to college; I’ve committed to run at George Fox University.

I don't know what will happen at my track meet this week, but I know that it will happen. I, my team, and all the high school runners around the Willamette Valley will continue to push ourselves to the limit in pursuit of excellence.

That is comfort enough.