Video Review: E.G. Daily “Say It,Say It”

In black-and-white, a fiftysomething man (Edson Stroll) narrates as he types, “that summer I rented a room.” A taxi driver drops him off at E.G. Daily’s home. Her mother (Louisa Moritz) gives him a tour of the house and says to him, “this would be your room. It’s a single.” He pats the bed, thinking, “it was appalling. Absolutely appalling.” Facing the window, he tells Daily’s mom that it’s “charming.” He narrates, “before I could get out there. She insisted on me meeting her daughter.”

They walk to the porch. Her mother says “voila” and points out the flowers in her garden. Daily, in a bikini, looks up from her book as she lays on the blanket and stares at the fiftysomething man. He says, “I’ll take it” as he watches Daily take off her sunglasses. He types, “she had this affect on me.”

Her mother stares at the fiftysomething man as they eat at the dinner table. Daily dips her finger in the food and eats it while looking at the fiftysomething man. She pulls him to her with his tie. Leaning forward, he straightens his tie as her mom walks in with glasses of wine.

Daily serves him lunch and leans into him as he writes on the typewriter. She stares at him as bites into her sandwich. Her mother sighs as she brings a cup of tea to him.  He imagines Daily lying in bed, throwing a pillow and her underwear at him. As he reads on the porch steps, she hula hoops. He types, “I shouldn’t lead the old girl on.” While he plays chess with her mom, Daily kisses her mom and the fiftysomething man on the cheek. He imagines her  sitting on his lap.

While he dances with her mom, Daily walks downstairs in a dress. He imagines her hands on the banisters. Her mom follows his eyes to Daily. He stands by Daily. Her mom points her gun at them. He types “the gun wasn’t loaded” while a Room For Rent sign in posted in the window. Daily types, “oh yes, it was. The End.”

Rating: 5/5

The fiftysomething man puts his hand on E.G. Daily’s back as they walk in the park. She grabs his hand and pulls him to the bench, saying he should rest. The fiftysomething man says she mustn’t worry. His doctor has told him he is in good health. I can’t lose anyone else, she tells him, looking at the stones on the ground.

She tilts her hand towards the window, watching the glimmer of her engagement ring shine on the wall. He places his hands on her shoulders, whispering “only a few more days.” She turns her head and kisses him. He says they should go to bed. His job scheduled early morning meetings tomorrow.

Daily opens the drawer in the car and looks for the gun. It was gone. “Your poor mother,” the fortysomething woman says to her as she closes the door of the car. The fortysomething woman grins at the fiftysomething man saying, “it was such a loss. For you to take care of her daughter, it’s such a caring thing to do.” The fiftysomething man nods, saying, they have to go. The fortysomething woman hands her a banana bread and says she hasn’t seen the house in a while. Daily opens the door for her. The fortysomething woman calls her a murderer. The fiftysomething man shields her from the bullet. Daily rushes to his lifeless body and begs for him to wake up.

Director: N/A Year: 1985

Pam Avoledo Administrator
Pam Avoledo spends her time binge-watching classic teen dramas and stands firm in her pro-Leyton stance. She also received her journalism degree in 2006 from Oakland University. Her work has been published in the White Wall Review, Sledgehammer Lit ,Greatest City Collective, 45 Magazine ,Fevers of the Mind, Daily Drunk Mag\'s Kirstofia anthology. and forthcoming in Scrawl Place