Hard Truths, 2024.
Written and Directed by Mike Leigh.
Starring Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Michele Austin, David Webber, Tuwaine Barrett, Elliot Edusah, Tiwa Lade, Jonathan Livingstone, Samantha Spiro, Sophia Brown, Hiral Varsani, and Bryony Miller.
SYNOPSIS:
Pansy is a woman tormented by anger and depression, hypersensitive to the slightest possible offense, and ever ready to fly off the handle. She criticizes her husband and their adult son so relentlessly that neither bothers to argue with her. She picks fights with strangers and sales clerks and enumerates the world’s countless flaws to anyone who will listen, especially her cheerful sister Chantelle, who, despite their clashing temperaments, might be the only person still capable of sympathizing with her.
During one of Pansy’s routine rants (explosively played by Marianne Jean-Baptiste with clear pain underneath, as clichéd as that might sound) in writer/director Mike Leigh’s Hard Truths, her husband Curtley (David Webber) offers a correction, muttering under his breath, “It’s called The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.” We don’t know much about Pansy yet or what is perpetually ticking her off, but it is still an “uh-oh” moment, except before one can even think that to themselves, she has already clapped back with such unnecessary rudeness, more than conveying why her family would rather sit there and take the verbal abuse instead of stand up for themselves, politely correct her, or gently attempt to talk through what is bothering her.
Pansy’s 22-year-old son Moses (Tuwaine Barrett) seems like a lost cause, still living with his parents, shy, directionless, and forgetting to clean up after himself. One instantly wonders if constantly dealing with someone as abrasive as his mother has played some part in who he is today. Meanwhile, Curtley doesn’t speak much or express any love. Who can blame him? Pansy is a woman irrationally set off by everyone about every little insignificant thing, typically leaping to appearance-shaming, extreme accusations, slamming people for conducting their jobs (verbally, although no one would hold it against you if you interpreted that physically), twisting logic around to reframe others as instigators, and generally unpleasant to anyone who unfortunately crosses her path.
There is an inclination to say she is like a cartoon character come to life, except that Marianne Jean-Baptiste’s performance isn’t cartoonish or funny (this isn’t a Billy Bob Thornton Bad Santa situation where her misery and rage are played for laughs) even if one can’t help occasionally snickering at one of her barbs, but devastating and even somewhat offputting (which is probably why the film occasionally cuts to a scene strictly focused on supporting characters). There is sweet relief in every brief minute away from Pansy, although not without wanting to return to her in search of understanding her. This is a woman who sits there and complains while her sweet-natured hairstylist sister Chantelle (Michele Austin, radiating the exact opposite energy of her co-star) comes to her home and works on her hair. It’s as if everyone knows that pushing back is futile.
Anyway, during that visit, it is revealed that Mother’s Day is around the corner and that the two sisters recently lost their mom. They also approach grieving differently. Bluntly speaking, there isn’t a reasonable excuse for how Pansy treats people in random encounters. With her family, there are shifting dynamics and surfaced truths that explain her behavior. It is all brilliantly acted, maximizing the subtle power of facial expressions, silence, and observing characters maneuvering through spaces and life. Still, some of those revelations, as previously mentioned, are pretty damn clichéd.
Thankfully, it’s not played for sentimental theatrics, trusting the performers to convey a whole lot without saying much or to let reactions such as sustained laughter and tears say whatever needs to be said. Mike Leigh understands that the information revealed and how it changes our perception of Pansy, and her rocky relationship with her family offers enough to ponder and recontextualize.
However, the central performance is of a quality that the script and storytelling struggle to match. Perhaps that’s the hard truth of Hard Truths.
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
