Skeet: Mean Streets for the Maritimes
By Thom Ernst
Rating: A
Several meanings can be assigned to the word “skeet,” some more appropriate than others.
If you're unfamiliar with street lingo, it may be hard to know which one applies in director Nik Sexton’s second feature, Skeet. Set in a working-class community in St. John’s, Newfoundland, we can eliminate skeet shooting.
And since this isn’t an adolescent sex comedy, we can dismiss its more vulgar slang interpretation. In this context, Skeet refers to a quick-to-anger, quick-to-act criminal enforcer — the last person you want showing up when you owe your dealer money. That definition fits ex-con Billy Skinner (Sean Dalton) to a T.
After serving three years for assault — shown in stylized flashbacks — Billy returns to his rough-and-tumble hometown with a pocket full of good intentions: find a job, reconnect with his son, maybe even patch things up with his ex, all while staying clean and out of trouble. But given the legacy of the Skinner name and the reality of street life, Billy’s redemption arc was never going to be easy.
The town he returns to has changed. Most notably, a wave of immigration has diversified what was once a predominantly white community. Some residents are uneasy with the shift, but Skeet makes it clear that not everyone shares that unease.
In one of Billy’s first post-prison encounters, a friend refers warmly to a Syrian family. It’s a small moment, but one that refreshingly upends audience expectations — and reveals the biases we may bring into the theatre with us.
Dalton’s performance as Billy Skinner embodies his character with the history of violence, failure and cruelty attributed to the family name. And though he conveys in Skinner a potential for violence he also carries with him the strength for restraint.
Jay Abdo plays Mohammad as a man with integrity and confidence, nonplussed by the suspicions of his neighbours. Mohammad (Mo) has an inner conviction that Skinner seems to recognize. The two men form a natural friendship which the film does not dilute with cloying tropes of misunderstandings and misdirected anger.
Sexton, a proud East Coaster, comes from a rich artistic lineage. His late uncle Tommy Sexton was a beloved comedian with the iconic sketch troupe CODCO, and his mother, Mary Sexton, produced Maudie.
He cut his teeth working with Rick Mercer on The Mercer Report, but despite the comic pedigree, Skeet is no comedy. It’s a hard-edged drama — part crime story, part social realism — that tackles themes of redemption, rehabilitation, and belonging, while brushing against racism, addiction, and the scars of poverty.
That’s a tall order for a film under two hours, but thanks to a taut script and grounded performances, Sexton makes it work, even as the narrative shifts perspectives among its characters.
Skeet walks a fine line between idealism and corruption, between what we want to believe and what we can believe. Co-written with Eyad Sakkar and Mira Hamour, the script acknowledges the systemic failures of a broken community without pandering to pity or outrage.
It plays with assumptions, introducing us to Billy’s estranged son (Jackson Petten), his meth-addicted mother (Wendi Smallwood), a crime lord who writes, recites and performs poetry (Garth Sexton), a childhood friend clawing her way back to sobriety (Kate Corbett), and immigrants trying to find space in a world that isn’t always ready to accept them.
Skeet is a striking second feature for Sexton—a Mean Streets for a dismissed and distressed Maritime town, with echoes of Gordon Pinsent, William Fruet, and Daniel Petrie. Thanks to Sexton, Sakkar, Hamour, and a stellar cast, Skeet reclaims the term and reshapes it, giving it new meaning in a story about transformation, resilience, and the slow, stumbling path toward grace.
Skeet. Directed by Nik Sexton. Starring Sean Dalton, Jay Abdo, Jackson Petten, Wendi Smallwood, Garth Sexton and Kate Corbett. Currently on tour across Canada with a stop at Toronto’s Royal Theatre April 16 for National Canadian Film Day. Director and cast will be in attendance.