Cast:
Sienna Miller (Adrienne), Diego Luna (Matteo), Beth Grant (Patty Healy), Aimee Carrero (Shea), Tory Kittles (Liam), and Vanessa Bayer (Maggie) Written and Directed by Tara Miele.
Review:
“I think as humans, story is our deepest faith, right? Story is how we make sense of the world. And I do think at the end of the day, they have to meet in the middle in this place, right?"
You are probably wondering the same question that I had when I looked at it the first time: What? Who? I have to admit that this film figuratively came out of left field, as it is the latest beneficiary of timing and attracting interest on the shelf circuit (I said shelf circuit, not streaming circuit), and March seemed exactly right for this kind of movie. This also happens to be the first work of Tara Miele to reach a certain kind of attention, since it premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in early 2020 (remember that year?); it serves as the fourth feature film for the Long Island native, as she had started her feature career with the indie film The Lake Effect (2010) after entering films with a couple of shorts (beginning with Miss Gentilbelle in 2000); she has also done some work in television. The impetus for this film came out of a car accident that Miele and her husband suffered several years ago (occurring during an argument with their kids in the car that left her with a concussion). She wanted to explore the parallels that come from one's perception after suffering an injury and the cycle of grief that all experience at some point in time. So basically, one is experiencing the fragility of life through narrative therapy that will involve flashbacks and dreams while one faces the truth about what it means to be alive.
I imagine there are two extremes one can fall into when thinking about the experience they had with the film: one will either find it to be an interesting look upon the fragility of life and memories that make for a surreal and soothing experience...or they simply will not care for its maneuvers into therapy that seems like a clunky gimmick for those who don't have the kind of patience for what it wants to say about things that might seem obvious. It really depends on just how much one goes with its existential question of what makes life worth living and all the wanderings that come from. For me, I thought it was an okay movie, because its main duo is the one sticking point that keeps things afloat when it comes to charisma in a film that practically wears "indie" on its sleeve. It aims for some sort of hope in the face of grief and manages to get a marginally useful experience out of it, in that it kept the attention going for 97 minutes without falling prey to all the clunky clichés of the surreal...in that it only gets to pick from the bag of tricks a few times, right down to trying to play with just who is exactly leading the other from the realm of the dead in a love story that I'm sure you've seen before and will see coming yet again. It is strange, because there are small moments that work much more handily in keeping one on the toes rather than the handful (i.e., hands and hands) of exchanges between Miller & Luna saying what is/what is not real in memory - consider a sequence involving our lead checking the baby in its cot, one that is not breathing or moving that alarms her before one realizes what exactly is up. At any rate, Miller and Luna are tasked with matching the other in naturalism that have distinct qualities that draw/repel each other. Miller sells it a bit better, one that expresses the doubts and fear that come from new-found purgatory nightmares that is quite captivating, wandering into terror with fair enough timing that drive the film, whether that means stuck by oneself or stuck wondering how she and Luna were ever a thing to begin with. As for Luna, he does well with what is given on the other side of the coin in terms of striking doubts and tense tenderness, and one could see the film from his perspective just as well as one could do with Miller without thinking either is overplaying their hand in drama or the inevitable argument of who seems more right (to which I shrug my shoulders). Grant and the others in the small cast play the moments with our main folks just fine with no puppetry required. The climax might prove the most interesting or the most "okay, sure" in terms of what it ends up doing in maneuvering the logical end-point for this procession of memories and grief and moving forward, which for me is mostly in the latter category - at least it isn't a complete cheat or something silly, because at the end of the day the movie wants one to end on a poignant moment and that I suppose is enough. At the end of the day, it is an okay movie, curious in its little moments spent with memory and grief that will stick with you if it connects with you after it ends or it will just pass on by with the curiosity of two decent actors to help lead it by - in that sense, being okay with a writer/director having their perspective told for a passion project is not a bad place to be.
And so we close Women's History Month. It was an interesting time trying to do fifteen reviews that would (in my mind) celebrate the month within female directors and stars, particularly in the differences that came out from era to era in perspective. As always, I hope you folks enjoyed this little series of reviews and I will see what will be done in the months ahead to keep up interest in what makes film so fun to write about.
Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
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