A nice effort, but amateur in both senses of the word.

The word “amateur” originally meant “one who loves.” It was meant to convey that someone did something out of love rather than for financial gain. It has since come to mean a shoddy effort, or something that falls short of accepted professional standards.

“Exit Stage Left” has both elements of this word. Clearly a labor of love created by someone with a theatre background, they explore some of the more esoteric aspects of the medium, such as each actor’s particular rehearsal method and how it may conflict with other actors or the director’s method. Also explored is the tension between the playwright and the director.

But this willingness to explore does not make this series anything close to a piercing examination of the medium like Woody Allen’s “Bullets Over Broadway,” or approach the genial goofiness of “Noises Off.” The writer (who also directs) has a few short film credits on IMDB, but no professional writing and directing credits that I could find. And it shows. The pace of “Exit Stage Left” is very slow and belabored, with occasional bursts of energy.

The mostly capable cast is badly misguided and not given very many funny moments to play. The lead actor, Michael Navarro, gamely tries to forge ahead with the material, but his low key, slightly self-conscious acting style cannot lift his character above the plodding script. It seems as though the only direction he was given was “smile a lot.” He does a lot of smiling, but it seems mechanical, like a politician or a beauty queen. The final effect is a little creepy, making me think this guy would make a great villain someday. Steve Budd, playing the difficult writer, always seems to be trying to muster up enough confidence to make his character’s ego large enough to create conflict. But his confidence is hollow and uncertain, completely undercutting one of the main storylines. And the other lead, Annamarie Macleod, lacks the creative insane spark to sustain interest in her crazy actress character. She comes off as only shrill and annoying, without the fascination that real-life actresses with that extra luminescent craziness can provide. (Where’s Sean Young dressing up as Catwoman when you need her?) Oddly, Ms. Macleod shines in a fantasy sequence of a romantic dinner, becoming vulnerable and charming.

There are a few standouts in the supporting cast, Ilea Mattews, Giovannie Espiritu, and Teri J. Freedman have that innate gifted actor’s sense of reality that doesn’t draw attention to itself. They are never seen “trying to act,” unlike the poor leads who are trying to pull the dead weight of a poor script along. And Matthew A. Bridges’ unfettered gay stereotypical character is so un-self consciously played that it’s a joy to behold. Plus he adds some intriguing twists to it, making him the most watchable member of the cast. And unlike the lead actors, he possesses comedic timing. This is a guy who’s going places.

And the script…I had high hopes when I saw the charming tagline: “A Web Series of Theatrical Proportions.” But alas, that tagline is the best piece of writing associated with this series. Again, I can feel the love of theatre in the script, but the jokes all seem to be placeholders for actual jokes yet to be written. In writing for network TV shows, it’s not uncommon for a first draft to have some bits of dialogue listed as “JTC,” which means “Joke To Come,” to be added by the rest of the writing staff later. It seems as though “Exit Stage Left” should be retitled “JTC,” since at this point it all seems like a work in progress awaiting a rewrite.

In other areas, the cinematography is clean but unimaginative. Oddly, there are no establishing shots to give us a sense of location. I mean zero. There is little to no movement for the actors – mostly they’re planted in place to say their lines. The editing is awkward, although it improves with each episode. The annoying omnipresent music is bland and Muzak-like, although there’s less of it in later episodes. And the directing is heavy handed and inelegant, just like the writing.

Massive Irony Alert: a series about a show beset by writing troubles and being badly directed…is actually badly written and badly directed. And, getting back to the original definition of the word “amateur,” all the love in the world from this show’s creators cannot save it from being a mildly tedious disaster.