Miranda’s Victim, 2023.
Directed by Michelle Danner.
Starring Abigail Breslin, Andy García, Donald Sutherland, Luke Wilson, Emily VanCamp, Ryan Phillippe, Kyle MacLachlan, Mireille Enos, Enrique Murciano, Taryn Manning, Joshua Bowman, Brent Sexton, Sebastian Quinn, Josephine Hies, Nolan Gould, Dan Lauria, Maricelis Galanes, Michael Mulheren, John Buffalo Mailer, Brian Colin Foley, Cameron Balbi, Carley Harper, Sheilagh Weyghmouth, and Travis Staton-Marrero.
SYNOPSIS:
In 1963, eighteen-year-old Patricia Weir is kidnapped and brutally raped. Committed to putting her attacker, Ernesto Miranda, in prison, Trish’s life is destroyed by America’s legal system as she triggers a law that transforms the nation.
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, Miranda’s Victim wouldn’t exist.
There’s plenty to be righteously infuriating about in Michelle Danner’s Miranda’s Victim, an overly broad look at one of the most complex Supreme Court cases in history (paving the way for the implementation of reading someone their constitutional Miranda Rights before arrest). There is the titular rape victim, sketchy and underhanded police tactics used to wring out a self-incriminating confession, probable systemic racism considering the alleged rapist’s racial background, courtroom attorneys more concerned with the case at hand rather than the humanity of its affected subjects, and several complicated domestic factors, not to mention sexual abuse PTSD.
This story is ripe for telling, considering Patricia “Trish” Weir recently revealed her identity and involvement in the case to the public. Unfortunately, developments regarding overturning Roe V Wade also ground this as a theoretical movie of the moment. It’s an important story and case speaking to the necessity of believing women, a lesson sadly relevant in 1963 as it is today. Factoring that the rapist was a Mexican-American man where law enforcement already had their proverbial knives out for him and was more than comfortable manipulating their way to the truth adds to this complicated mess and search for justice and fair punishment alongside a reassessment of police tactics.
It’s easy to get worked up by the injustice within these moving parts, but only at the surface level. With that said, what’s truly infuriating about Miranda’s Victim is how Abigail Breslin’s performance as Trish (from 18 years old into her early twenties), which is devastating, nuanced, and methodical, with no traces of dishonesty (her tears feel as sincere as her inability to hold up her head when divulging the horrific details to persons that may or not believe her, and her shaking and quivering whenever squeezing out the courage to paint a more graphic picture of her sexual abuse, particularly whenever forced to other the word penis), is wasted inside a cliff-notes version of history that is mawkish and cartoonishly depicts every other character and dynamic here.
The primary reason for these narrative woes seemingly comes from the script, written by J. Craig Stiles (also receiving a story credit alongside George Kolber and Richard Lasser), which has taken on more than it can handle. It’s not only jumping ahead in time with Trish and her life (including a marriage to a caricature of a husband who exists to fly into a rage upon finding out that his wife was once raped by a man of color, express insecurities, and struggle to stand in her corner) but also attempting to give misguided sympathy to Ernesto Miranda (Sebastian Quinn) for being pushed into giving a confession through ethically questionable means. That’s also not enough, there are also police procedural elements and a courtroom drama climax (with Luke Wilson and Ryan Phillippe serving as attorneys.)
However, there is no bigger offense than the film’s portrayal of Trish’s home life, surrounded by a mother (Mireille Enos) who wants her daughter to drop pursuing justice and focus on other aspects of her life, mainly because of the implication that she was also once assaulted, not believed, and has become cynically convinced that nothing useful will come of her efforts. That would be a powerful dynamic in the hands of a capable director and screenwriter. Here, she is another character is portrayed as over-the-top without a shred of believability.
Momentarily, the filmmakers also understandably seem to be going out of their way to keep the sexual violence offscreen, and for good reason, since it does not need to be shown explicitly. Abigail Breslin is talented enough to sell the initial trauma with a cut from a bus stop to arriving home in tears, jolting viewers. A stronger message is also sent by not showing the act, forcing viewers to take her word. Then, the film bafflingly starts utilizing sleazy flashbacks, increasingly showing more of the assault, shot and framed with all the class of a tasteless documentary. This is intended to be a metaphor for her growing clarity of remembering what happened, but it’s also plain trashy and doesn’t belong here.
Admittedly, the courtroom drama portion is compelling and convincingly acted, causing one to wonder if the entire film should have gone down that route. Miranda’s Victim wants to explore every angle of this tragic story and case, oblivious that Abigail Breslin is so effective here that the focus probably should have stayed on her. Whatever it’s attempting to do with Ernesto Miranda himself is a misguided mess, especially the bizarre dark punchline of an ending that doesn’t fit. Nevertheless, Abigail Breslin’s powerhouse performance is wasted and a victim of lousy filmmaking.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Originally published October 5, 2023. Updated October 4, 2023.
