Darlin’, 2019.
Directed by Pollyanna McIntosh.
Starring Lauryn Canny, Bryan Batt, Nora-Jane Noone and Cooper Andrews.
SYNOPSIS:
Found at a Catholic hospital filthy and ferocious, feral teenager Darlin’ is whisked off to a care home run by The Bishop and his obedient nuns, where she is to be tamed into a good girl. However, The Woman, who raised her and is equally fierce and feral, is determined to come for her no matter who tries to step in her way.
Some eight years after Lucky McKee took Frightfest by storm with his cult hit The Woman, lead actress Pollyanna McIntosh returns to the fest with a sequel which also happens to be her debut as writer-director.
And while Darlin’ isn’t quite a smooth continuation of McKee’s film, it bravely attempts to mount a thematic and tonal shift away from its predecessor, and despite some first-time filmmaking bumps, succeeds more than it doesn’t.
Years after the events of the first film, The Woman‘s (McIntosh) adopted daughter Darlin’ (Lauryn Canny) has become feral like her newfound mother, but after stumbling across civilisation, has found herself sequestered and domesticated at a Catholic boarding school. As Darlin’ begins to re-adjust to life on the grid, however, The Woman prepares to stage a violent return to reclaim her kin.
By far the most surprising aspect of this movie is its tone, as after easing viewers in with a certain grim consistency to its forebear, it gives way to a shocking abundance of humour, shot through with a joviality that seems only semi-ironic.
The external sadism of The Woman is elsewhere traded for an examination of bureaucratic and institutional rot, as McIntosh relentlessly takes the Catholic Church to task for their noted abuses – and their love of good PR, of course. This is an institution that, hilariously, restricts teaching of evolution in school to teaching “the evolution of sin”, and led by Bryan Batt’s perverted Bishop, wants to make Darlin’ a poster-child for their reform efforts.
This comfortably doubles as an allegory for powerful men wishing to keep young women in a place of indentured passivity, and McIntosh’s film is unsurprisingly at its strongest when probing female trauma. In one memorable scene, one of Darlin’s more rebellious classmates asks her, “Why do you think I smoke so much weed?”, a slight but perfect crystallisation of the emotional and physical brutality inflicted upon these young women.
And McIntosh’s unwavering voice is amplified by the solid efforts of the ensemble, especially lead Lauryn Canny, on whom the majority of the movie’s success hangs. Blank yet not listless, feral yet not cartoonish, she brings a warmth and humanity to a part that could easily feel one-note.
Meanwhile, some may be disappointed at the rather small size of McIntosh’s role, her presence muted for large chunks of the movie, all the more a shame given how wonderfully expressive her face is – and how much the camera loves it. As a representation of the return of the repressed, however, she fits snugly back into what must now be her signature screen role.
That McIntosh dares to place herself in some potentially risible scenarios that walk on a tonal razor’s edge – namely murdering a clown, walking around a maternity store and teaming up with a haggard squad of old women – demonstrates a not-ill-placed confidence in her ability to reconcile this new paradigm.
Darlin’ may lack much of the sadism and violence that made The Woman a festival gem, but the women are there and their sense of motherhood and sisterhood is palpable throughout. Though not an unqualified success for Pollyanna McIntosh – nor an essential continuation of The Woman – this follow-up maintains just enough of a subversive feminist edge to satisfy.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
