Housewife Pansy is not happy. She is agoraphobic, a hypochondriac and paranoid about animals, birds, insects, plants and flowers. She is confrontational with everyone, especially her plumber husband Curtley and her unemployed son Moses, whom she thinks is wasting his life. Her sister Chantelle runs a thriving hair salon. A single mum, she enjoys life, and lives harmoniously with her daughters Kayla, who works in cosmetics, and Aleisha, a trainee lawyer.
As many of us can attest, the strains of daily living and the ghosts of our past can take their toll on us in myriad ways, leaving us frazzled, frustrated, depressed and perpetually angry. We may not like the emergence of those outcomes, as they can effectively isolate us from others, including those we’re thought to care most about. But those conditions can become so overwhelming that we can’t cope nor allow well-meaning others to step in and help us. Such is the case for fifty-something middle class British housewife and mother, Pansy (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), who constantly complains, yells and criticizes everybody and everything around her, including her hard-working husband, Curtley (David Webber), and withdrawn 22-year-old son, Moses (Tuwaine Barrett). Curtley and Moses have been so beaten down by her irate nature that they no longer put up a fight with her, reconciled to her unendingly ornery persona. In fact, the only family member who tries to understand Pansy is her younger sister, Chantelle (Michele Austin), who worries for her sibling’s state of mind and increasingly shaky mental health. It’s never made completely clear why Pansy acts out as she does, especially in terms of the exacting standards to which she holds others for everything, though there are hints that much of her relentless discontent is rooted in the pain of a past she can’t bring herself to relinquish. Some onlookers also contend that her behavior is little more than a way to attract the attention and sympathy of others, but there comes a point where their patience and tolerance run out, prompting them to give up and leave her to stew in her own anguish, a solution that brings her no closer to meaningful resolution. As with many of his other film projects, writer-director Mike Leigh again presents viewers with a character study of an individual who fruitlessly wrestles with her circumstances without direction and ultimately comes no closer to resolving them than where she was when the opening credits rolled. Consequently, some may find this a frustrating, repetitive cinematic experience, yet, to its credit, the film also paints a realistic, candid portrait to which many of us can probably quietly relate. In telling Pansy’s story, the filmmaker concocts an intriguing mix of comedy and drama, though the laughs generated here may prove to be not so funny as the protagonist’s saga plays out, particularly in terms of the impact she has on others and herself. To that end then, some might argue that “Hard Truths” offers us no easy answers or plausible solutions, but isn’t that often the case where working through life’s hard truths is concerned? While the character development here could stand to be a little stronger at times (especially in terms of back story) and some ancillary narrative threads could have been easily eliminated – elements not uncommon in Leigh’s pictures – this is arguably the director’s most intimate, heartfelt and accessible release. In large part that’s thanks to the film’s National Board of Review Award-winning screenplay and its excellent performances, most notably Jean-Baptiste’s award-worthy portrayal, one that has deservedly earned her BAFTA and Critics Choice Award nominations. Given the foregoing, this may not be the easiest picture to watch, but it’s sure to provide us with much to reflect upon both for others – and ourselves – as we seek to figure how to assess life and the challenges it presents us.
'Hard Truths' features superb performances and an extremely hearty narrative, it's genuinely one of the saddest films I've seen in a long while; these type of real, gritty stories are always more impactful to me than the more manufactured drama (not that that's bad).
Marianne Jean-Baptiste is outstanding as Pansy, a character that is on the surface quite unlikeable but due to her performance as well as smart writing it is actually easy to still care for the character; it's clear why she is the way she is. Michele Austin is also terrific, I couldn't put my finger on where I remembered her from - TV's 'This Is Going to Hurt'.
David Webber and Tuwaine Barrett are effective in their roles too, arguably not difficult characters to play but I did feel for them both. Ani Nelson, Sophia Brown and even Jonathan Livingstone manage to stand out too, albeit comparatively minorly versus Jean-Baptiste and Austin.
As saddening as this film can be, there is also a fair bit of comedy thrown in there - most, if not all, of which is funny. That scene with Jean-Baptiste and Gary Beadle sticks out, even if Beadle's character is rather over the top. The blend of humour and serious is perfect.
For the third week running (weirdly, having not ever happened before), I got to see two films at the cinema back-to-back. This week, it was this and Drew Hancock's 'Companion'. Safe to say, two very different movies! Highly enjoyed them both though.
Marianne Jean-Baptiste turns in a splendid performance here as the troubled "Pansy". She's married to "Curtley" (David Webber) and mother to "Moses" (Tiwaine Barrett) but suffice to say she's not an happy woman. Her glass is most definitely half empty as she delivers monologue after monologue of depressing observations about the decline of society as she picks a fight with just about everyone and anyone she can - including her family. That family also includes her more upbeat hairdresser sister "Chantelle" (Michele Austin) and it's through that familial link that we start to discover just what might be driving this obsessively destructive behaviour. It's an observation of a few day in their lives, with limited information available to us before an even less well defined conclusion, but it does provoke thoughts on the importance of family and the perniciousness of grief and mental illness on not just those who suffer themselves, but on those who suffer by association. To that end, there's also quite a touching effort from Barrett as a son who is reserved and may well have learning difficulties of his own as he walks the streets, headphones glued to his head, cutting a rather lonely figure. The dialogue is intense, either delivering the wittily angry rants of "Pansy" or the more convivial ones of her sibling and her young daughters more intent on living the joys of life. It doesn't hang around and is, at times, both an entertaining and difficult watch as it showcases an actor who can invoke a gamut of emotions seemingly effortlessly. I could have done with just a little more context as we are left a bit rudderless at times, but it's still a formidable effort from MJ-B that's well worth an hour and half.
I love how angry this lady is. She's so smart. Every day she'd cut me to pieces; asking me why my chihuahua is wearing clothes.
Great emotion. Tension. How is that house so fucking organized? Box it up.
She's better than Culkin. A much more real pain. A much tighter run time. It is the best sad film.