A close mother and daughter move into a new town together. The mother, Lyn (Joanna Scanlan; Getting On), is a hunchback who loves animals and kitschy knick-knacks. The teenage daughter, Iona (Lily Newmark; Solo), is a wide-eyed kid, excited to meet her new friends. Iona quickly finds a group of girls at school, but soon faces what being their friend requires. Lyn is unable to make any friends due to her appearance and instead lies about it to her daughter. Director Deborah Haywood closely examines how these two fit, or don’t fit, into society and how that changes them.
The harsh realism can make the film difficult to watch. Iona is a kind, innocent girl and watching her change to fit in with her supposed friends can be a brutal experience, especially when peer pressure is involved. She doesn’t have the social knowledge to understand the dynamics at play with the mean girls she befriends and Newmark shows both her rapidly changing persona and exposes the naivete underneath. Unware of what the girls are truly capable of, she gives in to their demands and suffers severe social and, later, psychological consequences.
Haywood uses Iona’s situation to put the difference between fitting in and belonging into stark relief. Belonging is being accepted for you who are while fitting in is changing yourself to become accepted and Iona is faced with the latter. Even as she is ostracized by her former friend group she still desperately attempts to regain their attention or, failing that, the attention of anyone else. Watching her willingly debase herself just to get a modicum of peer approval is heart-wrenching.
Haywood’s second topic of interest is otherness. Lyn is a hunchback and is immediately mistreated for it. She, like Iona, wants to befriend others and is overly lenient with a neighbor in the hopes that they will become close. Despite this, she is treated poorly by all. Even a community group dedicated to building friendships excludes her. She tries wearing makeup and being kind, but is still mistreated. In an especially effective scene, the leader of the community group tells Lyn that they decided it would be in her best interest to not attend their meetings. Lyn agrees and begins profusely apologizing as if she was at fault for even trying to join. Her attempts to belong only serve to show how different everyone believes she is and each failure leads to deeper self-blame.
The bullying that Lyn and Iona face is similar, yet they are unable to support each other. Iona makes up a lie about her mother being an air hostess and Lyn degrades Iona for her actions at school. In their own attempts to belong, they reject each other. Not because of any dislike, but because in spending time together they are reminded of their own outsider status. This is the source of the crushing sadness that permeates the film. The idea that we will reject ourselves and the ones we love just to get approval from what society considers normal. In the final act, the film takes this to the extreme with a chain of events that is grim beyond all expectations. With unforgiving focus, Haywood shows the rippling damage inflicted in the quest for belonging.
4/5 stars.
After jokingly picking up plastic instruments at a birthday party for a friend’s child, an increasingly bitter 30-something married couple makes the unlikely decision to start a band together, using their fights as inspiration for their songs. Writer-director-star Zoe Lister-Jones and Adam Polly lead the band with some help on the drums from their strange neighbor played by Fred Armisen. The songs may be amateurish, but the performances are enthusiastic and the lyrics are relatable. As the band develops, so does the central relationship. The music-as-couple’s-therapy conceit brings playfulness to the film and their quarreling adds humor to each of the songs. The gradual rekindling and reevaluation of their romance through rock and roll is a heartwarming transition.
Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream) deserves some type of award. Not just for writing and directing this film, but for convincing a major studio to finance and distribute it in a wide release. Nothing about mother! screams mass appeal. This is the work of a filmmaker of extreme talent with the swaggering confidence and sufficient budget to attempt such a crazy endeavor. A woman (Jennifer Lawrence; The Hunger Games) lives in the countryside with her writer husband (Javier Bardem; No Country for Old Men) in idyllic peace until a fan knocks on their door. Before long the house descends into chaos as droves of unwanted guests commandeer her space, becoming increasingly rabid for her husband’s approval. Interpretations range from ecological damage to biblical stories to the insatiable ego of an artist but what remains constant is the sheer skill needed to pull something like this off. mother! a mesmerizing, dizzying, often frantic film that could only be made by a director with Aronofsky’s originality and mad ambition.
It’s hard to think of a film that turns an unsettling premise into such a joy to watch. Without spoiling the setup (it’s better to not know before viewing), James (Kyle Mooney; Saturday Night Live) rejoins his family as an adult and is obsessed with Brigsby Bear, a TV show that only he has had access to. His parents encourage him to reintegrate with society, but fandom remains his highest priority. With no more episodes being developed, he decides to create a movie that will be Brigsby’s final chapter. Instead of ridiculing James’ unrealistic goals, the film takes every opportunity to support him. Characters band together around his infectious enthusiasm and childlike wonder. As James embarks on his journey, his naivete and confusion about the norms of society provide an endless source of humor. Mooney’s effervescent charm permeates every frame of the film. It’s a counterpoint to our cynical times that is bursting with genuine exuberance and unbridled optimism.
Greta Gerwig (Damsels in Distress) could not have had a more auspicious debut than this. Her first film as a solo writer-director draws on her own experiences growing up in Sacramento and follows Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan; Brooklyn) in her last year of high school. The fiercely independent daughter of an equally strong-willed mother (Laurie Metcalf), Lady Bird struggles to find her place in her hometown. She drifts through different social groups, boyfriends, and arguments with her mother. As a young woman trying to define herself, Ronan captures the conflicted, confused teenage experience and Gerwig is completely in tune with her difficulties. She separates her film from other teen stories by examining not only Lady Bird, but an entire home (including her mother, father, and brother) in transition. She views these characters as equally important and shows how each is simultaneously facing their own life altering challenges. Her ability to balance multiple plotlines and see the greater context of each character’s arc make this one of the best coming-of-age movies in recent memory.
Despite being my top pick for last year, this may be the most idiosyncratic choice on this list. Terence Davies’ biopic on the life of Emily Dickinson will not be for everyone. It’s slow moving with the elaborate, often flowery dialogue of the period and makes no attempt to build to a traditional climax. Rather, the film presents Dickenson’s adult life in deeply sympathetic detail. Cynthia Nixon (Sex and the City) delivers a career defining, nuanced performance as the great poet.
