Hard Truths

Mike Leigh's Secrets and Lies was a brilliant film and his latest film Hard Truths is just as brilliant and stars the same actor Marianne Jean-Baptiste as the unforgettable, Pansy. Hard Truths is funny, heart-warming, sad, but most of all, very human. There's never a false note, the characters are so beautifully written and performed and I can't wait to see all the nominations Marianne is going to get for this role. It's definitely a film that will make you laugh out loud and cry, and you may not like Pansy but you will still enjoy every minute you're with her. See Hard Truths as soon as possible.

There's a crisis in the family. Marianne Jean-Baptiste is ripping into everyone: husband David Webber for his choice in business partners, son Tuwaine Barrett for being twenty-two and still eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sister Michele Austin for wanting to know if she's going to be with her on Mother's Day when she goes to their mother's grave, sales clerks, doctors, dentists, the fox that's gotten in the back yard, birds. And she's scared and just wants to sleep.

By the end of this movie, I was convinced she had brain cancer that was depressing her past all bearing. But this is Mike Leigh's first movie in half a dozen years. That means you know you are going to get great performances; and Miss Jean-Baptiste certainly gives one here, not caring if anyone likes her. Most of the rest of the cast is reduced to silence, but Miss Austin keeps sweetly not taking no for an answer until she gets some answers. And those answers are as unhappy as the rest of the performance.

I can't recommend this movie to anyone who wants a story with a sense of closure one or another. But if you want to watch a human being in honest pain for an hour and a half, here's your chance.

Have you ever encountered someone-whether in your personal life or at work-who was utterly impossible to deal with? If so, be forewarned: this film might bring back unsettling memories. One of the main characters is an absolute terror, a person who seems to thrive on sowing misery and conflict. She wields her cruelty with precision, crushing the spirit of her child and husband until there's little left of their individual vitality. But she doesn't stop there. No, her toxic charm spills out into the world, leaving anyone in her path to contend with the emotional wreckage she leaves behind.

In stark contrast, the film introduces us to her sister, a character who could not be more different. Where the first thrives on malice, the sister exudes kindness, warmth, and a sense of grounded sanity. She serves as a foil, a reminder that even within the same family, people can embody profoundly different responses to life's challenges.

This contrast raises a central question: how can two people, raised in the same family, turn out so differently? The film dives into this mystery, exploring the forces that shape us-whether it's nature, nurture, or the choices we make as individuals. How does one person end up consumed by anger, while another finds the strength to let go and move forward with grace?

This film incisively and truthfully illustrates the trials and tribulations of mental illness, in this case ostensibly depression, and how it affects the loved ones of those afflicted. It is heartfelt, at times hilarious, and thought-provoking.

Marianne Jean-Baptiste as Pansy, a fitting name as she gives a vivid flowery performance, like the real-life eponymous flower, is excellent here at portraying a deeply troubled woman teetering on the brink of madness, hanging on by a thread. What could have easily fell into a caricature performance is the exact opposite: she feels so real, raw, and visceral, riding the line between sanity and insanity. She is at war with the world: the most normal petty inconveniences cause her to explode into hysterics, rage, and deep sadness; her reactions are sometimes so severe to the point she's at times unable to merely leave her bed. Michele Austin is great, playing Chantelle, the foil and sister to the lead. Where Pansy seems to be unhappy and unsuccessful, Chantelle is the opposite. Despite their differences, they support one another. And it's their sisterhood and camaraderie that functions as the film's anchor and centerpiece. The implication of their sisterhood is to drive home the point that family is key in life, a balm for the spirit. An interesting thing happens as the film furthers: the more time Pansy spends with her family, the more irritated she becomes, but it's also the more open she becomes about her feelings; it's as though her family simultaneously causes her to not only face her issues head-on, but face the reality that she does indeed have a good support network, but often fails to take advantage of it. This brings to the film an interesting dynamic. It's in these scenes with her family, particularly with her sister, that she finally lets down her tough, gruff exterior to betray a soft, mushy interior.

The film, despite at its core being a darker and moving subject matter, has many moments of welcome levity and playfulness. The comedy and gravitas meld flawlessly to make for both touching and funny viewing. The only issue this film has is that the pacing unfortunately drags rather often. As there is no real, significant plot here, besides following a middle-aged woman struggling mentally and existentially, the film feels very slice-of-life; the scenes unfurl with almost no change between when we first start the film to when we finish it. This is compounded by the dense dialogue and the secondary stories not really adding up to much ultimately, albeit the supporting characters are all good. But that is likely the conceit here: it ought to be about illustrating a snapshot of this character. Despite recognizing her issues, Pansy very well may never get better and things likely will always look this way, unfortunately similar to how life itself is for many with mental illness.

Overall, this is a great film. It's poignant, with a powerhouse central performance, unexpectedly and serendipitously humorous and diverting, and it provides a verisimilar portrait of dealing with mental illness.

Pansy is just like my mom for half the movie. Minus the wealthy house, the OCD and the crippling fear of anything nature, plus she only abuses immediate family, but is always super friendly outside the house. She toned it down in later years, but yeah, always unhappy with you, always criticizing and insulting you. Never a good word. Irritable at the drop of a hat. So this felt kind of familiar, but also very uncomfortable. Of course this woman's behaviour is extreme, and I don't blame anybody around her for "hating" her. I kept waiting for some big revelation, some deep-seated trauma, some tragic event in her past, severe abuse, something like that. She had a tough childhood, but nothing that would explain this. She might have some form of depression, but I haven't heard of this type of manifestation. Depression doesn't make you this mean, does it?

Mike Leigh's movies end in some sort of revelation about the main character or we just naturally empathize with them, despite their flaws. This wasn't the case here at all, and I kept waiting for it. Nothing excuses Pansy's attitude in the end, and I could see parts of myself in Moses and Curtley. A person like this makes you act like that.

Marianne Jean-Baptiste is undoubtably an immensely talented actress. But I do not get the point of this movie, unless it's meant to be a character study of a deeply unpleasant person and the hurt she causes everyone around her, in which case well done. The positives here are her sister Chantelle, an absolutely lovely woman and her two daughters. I wish the movie was about them really, but unfortunately it's not.