Looking like a set from a Guy Richie film, The Black Box had a grungy feel to it that suited an underground film festival perfectly. The venue itself remains the highlight of the evening and is definitely worth a trip, for one of the few Fringe shows left this week preferably.

The screening takes place inside a confined space adorned with black theatre curtains, a projector screen, and a series of ramshackle seats that range from couches, to folding chairs, to small stools covered in fake grass. After a quick word from the presenter who bristled with delighted excitement, handing out hand-written audience favourite ballots, the festival got started.

For opening night, we only saw Programme A, and hence my review is limited to those short films. All are West Australian made and there’s a sense of enjoyment in that. You recognise landmarks (Hyde Park and The Moon Café make appearances), revel in an Australian accent instead of the typical American, and even laugh at the classic slang that defines our country.

Unfortunately, the quality of films wasn’t always at the same level. A few suffered from post-production issues but festivals like Outpost are the first step in ironing these out. Overall, the screening was enjoyable and contained a few very heart-warming shorts, standout ones include “Blue” by Keir Wilkins and “Picnic” by Grace Macri.

Outpost Film Festival is the new kid on the block. From the very start, the team behind it stated that they hoped to not just be limited to Fringe World and to continue throughout the year. It’s a festival that has a lot of heart and a lot of promise, particularly with Western Australia having such an understated amount of film talent currently. If you’re after something with thousands of dollars worth of funding and high definition quality, try Tropfest, but if you want something with a lot of potential and a ton of personality, dig a little deeper to The Bakery.

Outpost Film Festival is showing at The Bakery Black Box every night until Thursday, February 21^st.

The audience enters into a black box that is deceptively smaller than it seems at first, disorientated and searching for a light source that, eventually, shows them where to sit.

Opening night for the Summer Nights program at The Blue Room ensured a comfortably full house, brimming with Fringe performers eager to witness the highly anticipated show.

After our eyes adjust to the dim lighting, two figures take shape on the stage. These are our two guides through the landscape Maitland Schnaars has forged through the story of his mentally ill and morally malfunctioning protagonist, played by Schnaars himself. The other is his companion, partner, parent, and carer (Katya Shevtsov).

The two gradually, even hesitantly, begin their respective roles, Schnaars playing with a torch, like a fascinated cat, and Shevtsov sitting at a barbecue filled with props, touching up her makeup. The tension is palpable from the first cryptic sentence, intensified by the heavy shadows and hair-prickling soundtrack.

The next fifty-five minutes are the most unsettling I’ve seen on a stage before, created by a mix of extremely believable dialogue, poetic renditions, sparse lighting, dissonant background piano, and two very compelling performances. What comes from this as a result is an emotional, and starkly honest, depiction of a man’s fight against his past to ensure his future, even if it means self-harm, hospitalisation, and the refusal of love.

The team of Schnaars, Shevtsov, and director, Joe Lui (The Book of Death), has worked seamlessly here to create an environment of extreme isolation with an atmosphere of heaviness that is not only haunting but also beautiful in the most realistic sense. Small touches like a cocktail of pills, a mirror in the corner, strategically placed gobos, and a bag full of poems, are just a handful of things that make If I Drown I Can Swim a memorable performance in the conglomerate of Fringe World.

If I Drown I Can Swim is showing until February 2^nd