As a film enthusiast with a penchant for character-driven narratives, I found myself deeply immersed in Ken Loach’s latest offering, “Hard Truths.” The intricate dance between Pansy and Chantelle, two women bound by a complicated history, was nothing short of captivating. Their relationship, marked by childhood trauma, lingering grudges, and weary devotion, felt strikingly familiar – much like the relationships I’ve observed in my own life.
Among the unappealing female characters on screen, Pansy Deacon certainly stands out as formidable. Bringing a fierce intensity to her role, Marianne Jean-Baptiste portrays this continually stressed and antagonistic lead character in Mike Leigh’s Hard Truths. With a venomous tongue, she lashes out at anyone who crosses her path – including family members, salespeople in furniture stores, and many more unfortunate souls.
Watching a remarkably unpleasant character for 97 minutes might seem like an unfair jest, especially for viewers who appreciate their main characters to be more endearing. However, devotees of Mike Leigh will notice his characteristic compassion and readiness to portray individuals at their most unpalatable. This prickly, penetrating film offers a thought-provoking conundrum, stretching the limits of our empathy and urging us to truly observe someone we’d likely avoid if encountered in real life.
Spending time with Pansy in her turbulent moments, filled with anger and insults, can at times be draining, darkly amusing, and momentarily enlightening. Whether her harsh words hide a deeper cruelty or not remains unclear, but the film’s thought-provoking, humane impact lies in its portrayal of cruelty as a product of pain, making it a subject deserving of empathy.
Moving past discussions about compatibility, it’s refreshing to see the filmmaker returning to modern times after back-to-back journeys into 19th-century English history through “Mr. Turner” and “Peterloo”. Unlike his top-tier works, “Hard Truths” is more organized, structured, and less sprawling. However, it’s still a powerful, excellently performed and directed depiction of mental anguish and the destruction it leaves behind. It’s enriched with dashes of humor and subtle touches of kindness.
The movie serves as the latest installment in an ongoing exploration throughout the filmmaker’s career about the idea of happiness, focusing on who experiences it, who doesn’t, the methods, factors, and reasons behind its acquisition or absence, taking into account societal structures (class and status), personal decisions, personality traits, and random chance. Hard Truths seems to engage in a thoughtful dialogue that contrasts with two of Leigh’s previous works: Happy-Go-Lucky, featuring Sally Hawkins as Poppy (a character similarly named after a flower starting with “P”), who adopts her carefree disposition and unwavering optimism as a protective shield; and Another Year, which follows a contented married couple and the troubled individuals who gravitate towards them.
In this movie, race is subtly implied as a potential contributor to Pansy’s distress, but not overtly focused on. Some viewers might find it questionable that a white director is portraying the struggles of a British Jamaican family, but the filmmaker skillfully steers clear of stereotypes. Unlike some of the director’s earlier works like “Life Is Sweet” or “All or Nothing,” which had a comedic tone or a hint of condescension, this film doesn’t have that. Instead, it showcases the creativity and dedication of an 81-year-old artist who continues to delve into fresh perspectives about the complex and intriguing individuals inhabiting our world.
Jean-Baptiste’s final role in Leigh’s movie was “Secrets & Lies,” where her character Hortense displayed a composed, patient demeanor contrasting with Brenda Blethyn’s drunken, tearful one. Pansy, portrayed by Jean-Baptiste, is the polar opposite of Hortense in terms of temperament. Life for Pansy is a constant stream of offenses and irritations; even minor issues like a banana peel on the kitchen counter or pigeons cooing in the yard set her off. She shares a row house with her husband Curtley (David Webber) and their overweight, introverted 22-year-old son Moses (Tuwaine Barrett). Besides legitimate grievances such as police harassment of Black boys, Pansy also has a long list of petty complaints, including charity workers asking for donations and the way a neighbor’s baby is dressed.
When Pansy steps outdoors, she finds herself in constant conflict with society. Acting out by Leigh and performed brilliantly by Jean-Baptiste, her encounters with people at the supermarket, a sofa saleswoman, a doctor, and a dentist transform into mini spectacles of rage and unjustified defensiveness. Pansy’s bitterness is humorous, her insults displaying a flowery, almost poetic character: The mentioned doctor is referred to as “a mouse with glasses squeaking at me”, while the woman who dares challenge Pansy is labeled an “ostrich” and then moments later, “a string”. However, her temper can also be alarming, a volatile expression of psychological issues such as depression, anxiety, OCD, as well as physical problems like migraines, jaw pain, and digestive issues.
Around the 15-minute mark of the movie, Leigh introduces another significant character: Pansy’s younger sister Chantelle (played brilliantly by Michele Austin). Unlike her scornful and snappish sibling, Chantelle is as warm and good-natured as a ray of sunshine. Scenes showing Chantelle braiding hair while moderating lively salon discussions about relationships, food, aspirations, and work schedules serve as a refreshing contrast to Pansy’s rants, adding a touch of humor and brightness to the otherwise somber narrative.
Instead of avoiding Pansy’s unkindness like Curtley and Moses do, Chantelle interacts with her, brushing off her most exaggerated remarks, drawing her out from her angriest episodes, and reassuring her that their connection is boundless, regardless of circumstances. These two women may not be friends in the traditional sense, but their tumultuous exchanges possess a familiar, well-rehearsed rhythm. Leigh and his cast skillfully portray this complex relationship, marked by childhood trauma, lingering grudges, and weary loyalty, making it appear authentic and convincing on screen.
Additionally, Leigh provides insights into Chantelle’s life as a solo parent to her two lively, spirited adult daughters, Aleisha (Sophia Brown) and Kayla (Ani Nelson). This close-knit threesome reside in a compact apartment that contrasts starkly with Pansy’s expansive home which feels almost sterile. Their playful banter and enthusiasm create an even more pronounced contrast to the somber atmosphere present in Pansy’s household.
In the world of Hard Truths, much like Leigh’s other films, the thematic structure is clear, almost evident. At one point, Chantelle asks Pansy, “Why can’t you just live and enjoy life?”, to which Pansy responds with a frustrated, “I don’t know!” Although Leigh doesn’t claim to have all the answers, a poignant scene at a graveyard in the latter half of the film provides hints about their past and sheds light on their struggles. Reminiscent of Secrets & Lies, tensions escalate during what appears to be a joyous occasion – here, a Mother’s Day lunch at Chantelle’s house. This event serves as a stage for these characters’ deep-rooted wounds to surface and reveals their resilient determination to stand by each other despite it all.
Leigh, renowned for his meticulous improvisational rehearsal techniques with his team, consistently draws extraordinary performances from his leading ladies. In the movie, Jean-Baptiste delivers explosive scenes, and her diatribes resonate powerfully. However, through subtle changes in her facial expressions and voice tones, fleeting moments of vulnerability and softening emerge, revealing the fragile humanity beneath Pansy’s antagonism – her weakness, fear, and lingering resentment. Unlike Poppy from Happy-Go-Lucky, who naturally exudes cheerfulness, happiness is a conscious choice for her, a defiant act of joy in the face of adversity; Pansy, due to circumstances that are both overt and implied, never enjoyed this luxury.
In the movie, Pansy and Chantal stand out so much that other characters appear less developed by contrast. Curtley, for instance, is not portrayed in a way that feels genuine; his role as both target and instigator of Pansy’s anger seems more confusing than complex. Scenes featuring Aleisha and Kayla at work are brief and seem more like formalities rather than meaningful insights into their professional lives. The film sometimes struggles to decide whether it wants to delve deeply into a few characters or present a broader picture of multiple lives. Hard Truths often seems unsure of its own direction.
This film, despite a few minor flaws, is an essential component in the larger picture of its creator’s career. Its connection is strengthened by notable contributions from regular collaborators such as cinematographer Dick Pope, whose intimate facial close-ups are insightful, and composer Gary Yershon, whose orchestral score skillfully balances melancholic strings with hopeful, optimistic tones.
In the film, the enigma as to why Pansy’s family tolerates her becomes more clear by the end, thanks to Leigh: while she’s certainly a source of distress, she also embodies a vital energy. Moreover, in Jean-Baptiste’s remarkable portrayal, there’s a hint – though faint and subtle – that beneath Pansy’s fierce and angry exterior lies a deep, passionate love.
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2024-09-07 05:55