Mr., Mr. Barrington is one of the Originals BY SAM PFEIFLE
	Mr. Barrington Directed by Dana Packard. Written by Jennifer Nichole Porter. With Jennifer Nichole Porter, Eric Schweig, Brian McCardie, and Jonelle Allen. A Honey Tree Films release (113 minutes). At the Movies at Exchange.

Think. What’s the best indie flick ever to come out of Maine? Does In the Bedroom count? No, though the bridges and beers are fun to recognize. But neither do little shorts like Vampire Family Values or Pennyweight count. They’re not the sorts of films you can go see down at the cineplex (not that Maine has one) with your best gal. We’re talking feature-length, full-script affairs here, but only the biggest film nerds will come up with even a short list of possibilities.

And, come to think of it, maybe In the Bedroom does count if we’re going to consider this film, Mr. Barrington, produced by Honey Tree Films, for nomination. Maine’s Jennifer Nichole Porter starred in, wrote the screenplay for, and composed all the music for Mr. Barrington; and she’s joined by director Dana Packard, her Originals theater troupe partner, based in Bar Mills. But the feature doesn’t really feel much like Maine.

Perhaps that’s because it was filmed down in Louisiana. Even if you weren’t privy to such information, the beautiful house that Porter’s Lila occupies (to the exclusion of all other places) may be Victorian, but the vegetation — and the weather — scream of a foreign locale.

Why does this matter? It doesn’t really, but there’s a hard-to-kick feeling that something this polished and interesting should be something we can readily claim as our own. Packard and Porter have teamed with executive producer Tom Craig, who brings along production credits on huge films like Shakespeare in Love and A Kiss Before Dying, to bring about a film worthy of serious consideration, deep and thoughtful, if not exactly your standard summer blockbuster.

Barrington’s pacing is lovely. Packard has seen to it that the camera lingers on his beautiful star, Porter, and that Porter doesn’t do anything in a hurry. Dialogue is at a premium, as Porter’s Lila is a poet suffering at turns from agoraphobia and writer’s block, and husband Samuel (played by Eric Schweig, most recognizable from Last of the Mohicans) doesn’t know whether to intrude or let her be.

Things take a turn for the surreal, however, with the introduction of the title character, Mr. Barrington, a foppish English gent straight out of A Clockwork Orange, in a high bowler and saddle shoes. He rides up on an antique bicycle, comes in through the front gate (a recurring metaphor you’ll have to interpret for yourself), and quickly offers himself up as friend to the shy and reserved Lila.

" I’ll get sick if I go too far away from the house, " she tells him when he entreats her to come and let him have a look.

" Are you sure? " he answers. We’re so focused on Lila, uncomfortable in her own skin, we forget to wonder where this guy could have come from. She asks and doesn’t get an answer. Once it becomes clear that Lila and Samuel met in a convent, however, Barrington’s gift of an apple takes on some suspicious intent.

Things go downhill quickly. Lila never sleeps, and is haunted by the sound of a gunshot. Director of photography Eric Goldstein expertly handles the dusk of her bedroom and sunshine that streams through their airy kitchen in the morning, but it is the sound that really lends the film its atmosphere. A simple phone ringing is enough to startle. You can hear every one of Lila’s steps across the house. Samuel is inundated by the echo of buzzsaws at his job at the mill. Sheets rustle, rain patters on the roof, the alarm clock will keep you awake for days. Maybe this is what will come to define indie films: letting the sounds of reality twist and turn, without transcendent strings or alt-rock strains informing you what emotion you should be experiencing.

Sometimes, with Barrington (played by Brian McCardie, late of 200 Cigarettes), it’s hard to tell. " Are you sure it’s not a horror movie? " a fellow viewer asked. No, I never was sure. Barrington is irritating from the onset, but it’s not clear whether he’s playing the impish irritator or the devil himself, or whether he might be the muse that the blocked Lila can’t seem to corral. The late scene with the birthday cake, however, is your best signal. It is perfectly played.

And ever is the piano line Porter penned to run through the movie. In the opening scenes, there’s an initial feeling that it might become cloying or intrusive, but as you come to understand Lila’s state of mind, the piano becomes a part of the demons that haunt her.

She becomes bruised and battered. Who’s doing it? Not Samuel, but neither does Lila seem to be using the big man for protection. She seems adrift, unable to take control of herself or her actions, and constantly fighting Barrington’s overtures.

" I like the other man better, " he hisses. " Where’s he? " The viewer has no idea to whom he’s referring, but it’s clear that Barrington doesn’t like Samuel. The question you have to ask is whether he’s Hobbes to Lila’s Calvin, or Wormtongue to Lila’s King of Rohan. Samuel figures it out with a trip back to the convent, but the viewer never really knows to the very end.

And the end comes quicker than you’d think. For a slow movie, the minutes seem to fly by. However, if you can appreciate what it’s trying to say, it will stay with you for quite some time.

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at spfeifle@phx.com