Fast Film Reviews

There’s an appealing lo-fi aesthetic to this immersive character-driven drama. Screenwriter Ryan Binaco (3022) was allegedly motivated to pen a tribute to his mother’s life. He reportedly drew inspiration from the 1970 movie Wanda by Barbara Loden as well. However, this portrait of a troubled American mother experiencing questionable mental health also suggests other films of that decade: A Woman Under the Influence and The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds. Accomplished TV director Michael Morris (Bloodline, Better Call Saul, 13 Reasons Why) directs.

Leslie Rowland is a single mother from West Texas. Right at the beginning, we see TV news footage of her winning $190,000 in a local lottery. Leslie’s numbers were her son’s birth date. She happens to be an alcoholic and squanders the winnings on liquor and drugs. Six years later, Leslie is penniless and living a nomadic lifestyle without a permanent home. After being kicked out of a derelict motel, she returns to her hometown, ostensibly intending to rebuild her life. Leslie reunites with her estranged 20-year-old son James (Owen Teague). He’s currently in construction. The tall, slender Teague recalls a working-class John Travolta circa the Saturday Night Fever era. James agrees to take her in temporarily, provided she doesn’t drink. Unfortunately, she has difficulty making good on that promise.

Redemptive dramas about alcoholism can feel a bit manipulative. Yet To Leslie supersedes its histrionic subject with authenticity. Leslie soon alienates her son and is forced to move back in with bitter ex-friends (Allison Janney and Stephen Root). That soon falls apart. A chance meeting with Sweeney (Marc Maron), the manager of a rundown motel, might prove to be a blessing. Sweeney’s co-worker is an idiosyncratic man named Royal (Andre Royo), who owns the property. These thoroughly realized characters confirm that a complicated plot is unnecessary when you sincerely detail human emotion. This is a compelling study of addiction in blue-collar Middle America. The emotional saga captivates at every turn.

When we talk about the depth of an actor’s work, it’s hard not to consider the disparity between an actor’s background and the personality of their role. Andrea Riseborough is a British actress born in Wallsend, near Newcastle. She attended the prestigious Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in 2005. Riseborogh completely embodies this hard-drinking West Texas woman. You’d swear the producers simply picked up a local barfly from “The Lone Star State” and cast them in a movie. Riseborough is that convincing. Playing a drunk can feel like a “rite of passage” for an actor. However, her depiction here is elevated beyond common portrayals.

Andrea Riseborough has always been a chameleon. It’s easy to forget she’s been acting for two decades. She made her feature debut in 2006 with a small part in Venus starring Peter O’Toole. She has had prominent roles in many films, including Oblivion, Birdman, Nocturnal Animals, Battle of the Sexes, The Death of Stalin, Mandy, Possessor, Amsterdam, and Matilda The Musical. She often looks and acts like an utterly different individual. She gives a transformative performance here. A grassroots campaign amongst Riseborough’s fellow actors heralded her work in this picture few had seen before January 24. When the Oscar nominations were announced that morning, she earned a nod for Best Actress. Her nomination may have been a surprise, but her achievement is most assuredly deserving of acclaim.

To Leslie is available to rent on iTunes, Amazon Prime Video, Google Play, Vudu, and YouTube.

01-26-23

Aftersun is a moisturizing lotion applied to the skin to soothe sunburn and avoid peeling. The symbolic title announces a deceptively simple movie with significant depth. It opens with rewinding home video footage of a vacation at a modest resort in Turkey during the summer of 1999. The videotape reignites the memories of that trip for an adult woman (Celia Rowlson Hall). 11-year-old Sophie (Frankie Corio) is a precocious and perceptive youth on the cusp of adolescence. She’s on holiday with her dad. Calum Paterson is about to turn 31, so there is an age difference of less than 20 years between them.

Calum is a loving and supportive presence in his daughter’s life. The saga presents a series of seemingly random and inconsequential events. The account is a study in simplicity. They swim in the Mediterranean, play a game of pool, shop for a rug, and eat ice cream. In these warm interactions, we gradually explore the dynamics of this father-daughter duo. However, something is amiss. It’s subtle. At one point, Sophie tries to get Calum to join her on stage for a karaoke version of “Losing My Religion,” but he isn’t feeling it. It is implied they used to sing this together on holidays in the past. You’ll have to look closely to identify clues suggesting melancholia.

Aftersun is a gentle wisp of a recollection. A fond reminiscence of happier times. This was one of the most acclaimed releases of 2022 and appeared on over a hundred critics’ top 10 lists. It even garnered a Best Actor Oscar nomination for star Paul Mescal. He gives a nuanced performance, as does actress Frankie Corio, who plays his daughter. I was impressed by their relaxed chemistry in this thoughtful pastiche of flashbacks. Two things of note: (1) Calum was young when he became a father. (2) He’s now separated from Sophie’s mother. This portrait will affect you more if you identify with Sophie’s situation.

Aftersun is a profoundly personal picture. Charlotte Wells is a talented filmmaker who clearly understands the power of restraint and patience. That this is her first feature makes it one of the most self-assured directorial debuts of 2022. The chronicle perfectly illustrates “show, don’t tell.” As such, the delicacy of the screenplay is the more profound meaning between the lines. This is a profoundly personal picture. The evocation of a mood is compelling. But be forewarned. The nostalgia of this trip is an intimate reflection that builds to an ambiguous conclusion. It may hit you like an emotional ton of bricks or leave you asking a question that does not have a definitive answer.

01-24-23

From its title, you expect an inspirational tribute to female empowerment. Sadly Women Talking is more frustrating than satisfying. Here’s why.

This chronicle is based on a scandal that occurred among the Mennonites of Manitoba Colony. Mennonites are Christians formed during the Protestant Reformation. Neither Catholic nor Protestant, they are often closely associated with the Amish but an entirely separate entity. This particular religious community of European descent resides in the eastern lowlands of Bolivia. Inspired by actual events, the incident was recounted in the novel of the same name by Miriam Toews. Between 2005 and 2009, over a hundred girls and women woke up to discover that they had been raped in their sleep. At first, the men told them it was the work of ghosts or demons. Ultimately the perpetrators were caught in the act. The victims discovered that men in the settlement had sedated them with cow tranquilizer. The felons were eventually arrested by local police and taken to jail.

Women Talking is simply that, a discussion amongst mothers, daughters, wives, grandmothers, and children. Understandably, they were outraged. The unspeakable crimes have mainly occurred before the film’s outset, although we see some individuals waking up with bruises and no recollection of what happened. The remaining men have now gone to town to bail the criminals out. They have instructed that the women must forgive their abusers before they return. If they do not, they will be forced to leave the colony and “denied entry to the Kingdom of Heaven.” Oh boy. Are you frustrated yet? It gets even more maddening. The female survivors have assembled in a barn. They have three choices, of which they will pick one (1) Do nothing, (2) stay and fight, or (3) leave.

A celebrated cast breathes life into a dreary debate set on a theatrical stage. Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, Jessie Buckley, and Judith Ivey present a variety of personalities. They imbue director Sarah Polley’s screenplay with confidence. Producer Frances McDormand also appears as a woman less aligned with the other protestors. She’s onscreen for perhaps 5 minutes. Meanwhile, Ben Whishaw portrays a quiet schoolteacher smitten with Mara’s character. He’s also on hand as a sympathetic representative of the patriarchy who can read and write, unlike the women. He’s ostensibly here to take down the notes and indirectly remind us that “not all men.”

The artificial construct of Women Talking is not without precedent. 12 Angry Men famously threw a group in a room and had them argue. That outstanding drama focused on the questionable guilt of an accused. In this account, there is no doubt. The men are clearly guilty, and the dialogue examines what to do. That changes things considerably. The eight endlessly pontificate on their various options. One’s enjoyment will be how much you appreciate listening to indecisive people speak in circles about an issue for 104 minutes but not do anything. I had hoped that “stay and fight” might include securing machine guns and mowing down their violent attackers. I wondered what an actress like Sigourney Weaver or Linda Hamilton might have done in a movie 35 years ago.

The persecuted gather for a well-meaning drama of morally unimpeachable politics. The ladies finally make a decision, but it’s too little too late. It fails to provide the necessary catharsis, a moment where horrific crimes are thoroughly addressed. Dear ladies, actions speak a lot louder than words. Or, to put it another way, “women doing” is more inspiring than “women talking.”

11-30-22