American artist Alex Prager knows how to capture a character. Her film “Face in the Crowd” (2013), showing now at the Saint Louis Art Museum, pulls at the heartstrings of anyone who has ever felt lonely. Whether it is a divorced grandmother from Long Island pouring her heart out in a dark and secluded room, a quiet Asian man sharing his belief in true love or the famous actress Elizabeth Banks, lost amidst a chaotic sea of strangers, Prager perfectly portrays so many universal human emotions in her frames. The artist is known for her photography, and her subject is usually a crowd of costumed actresses. While the characters may be faking it, “Face in a Crowd” reveals an authentic, refreshing take on what it truly means to be anonymous.

Courtesy of Alex Prager and Lehmann Maupin

The 11-minute film begins with individual monologues by a variety of characters—all with stories to share of funny experiences, heartbreak, nostalgia and more. Although each actor only stays on screen for a sentence or two, Prager is able to pin down moments in each dialogue that go against the grain, defy the stereotype behind a carefully crafted appearance and remind the viewer that each face has something meaningful to add to the crowd. After a few experiences and memories are shared, including a shot of Banks reminiscing about the ballet and voice lessons her mother signed her up for as a child, an orchestra strikes up, and the film breaks from its captivating “face” segment to its “crowd” component.

Suddenly, boisterous violins accompany the bustling streets and hushed fuss of a crowded town. Banks becomes the focus as she stares longingly out of the window and presses her hand against the glass, pining for the excitement and expressive faces that await. Once she steps outdoors to join the crowd, though, the mood drastically shifts. It’s as if the first half of the film prepped the viewer with the beauty of each individual actor before unleashing the horror of bringing all of these characters into one frame.

Courtesy of Alex Prager and Lehmann Maupin

While the colors of their varying hats and wigs, interesting props and interactions are electrifying for a moment, Banks is quickly overwhelmed as these small details culminate into an explosion that roars and reverberates around her. Eyes widen, mouths clench and howl, and the viewer is suddenly gripped with anxiety too. The film comes back to interview mode for Banks to recall why her mother signed her up for the childhood dance lessons: “Maybe she thought that it would help me not notice how often I was actually alone.” To be honest, some parts of Banks’ acting in this piece were so melodramatic that it was hard not to picture her in her role of Effie Trinket in “The Hunger Games.”

Prager successfully shows the perks and costs of being constantly surrounded by strong characters. Crowds bring both endless inspiration and personal anecdotes when you choose to focus on the individual, but they also cause an overload of action that brings us back to loneliness. Hence Banks’ exit from the film: The crowd stops in its tracks and conversations abruptly, allowing her to quietly slip out of the nightmare stage left before the pandemonium stirs up again.

Prager made an interesting choice to portray each character from not only diverse backgrounds and ages but also from different decades. The style and dress of each actor comes from a wide range in history while the film itself is high quality and shot in a contemporary way. This causes the piece to feel oddly both distant and akin to today’s everyday emotions—it’s like the twilight zone. The film is full of these juxtaposed contradictions that force the viewer to linger with the effect for some time afterward. This exhibition takes place in one small viewing room with a single bench, so you may find yourself sitting at the Saint Louis Art Museum considering your own face in the crowd as the theater fills up.