Sherrybaby

There is one reason and one reason alone to see 'Sherrybaby', and that is for Maggie Gyllenhaal tour-de-force performance. Gyllenhaal gives her best performance to date as Sherry, a heroin addict/thief on parole who struggles to stay clean and re-kindle a relationship with her estranged five-year-old daughter. Everything else in the movie is mediocre at best. The other actors are good, but none of them have roles with enough substance for special merits. 'Sherrybaby' is not an easy movie to watch, it's painfully realistic and I felt incredibly embarrassed by Gyllenhaal's Sherry through-out the entire film. It's also somewhat predictable. Long story short, 'Sherrybaby' would be nothing without Gyllenhaal's groundbreaking and tear-jerking performance. Grade: B

I thought the movie featured a great screen play and was a strong vehicle for each of actors to develop their characters. The story may not be entirely original but I think that's a strength because it's the telling of the story through each of the characters that makes it an achievement. Seldom does a film have such strong protagonists and antagonists and allow viewers to really empathize with each.

I enjoyed seeing the raw tension between the characters who could relate to personally, as my family participated in the Foster Care system for many years growing up. I think some may want to see more of a definitive ending but for me, it's more about the journey and the struggles therein.

I would recommend this movie for those who want to see a seemingly familiar story told in a unique way.

Maggie Gyllenhaal emerges as an undeniably powerful actress in the title role of this low-budget 2006 indie. Rather than providing her usual scene-stealing turn, she gets to convey the nuances of a full-blown character by delivering an astonishing range of emotion as a struggling ex-convict. The film reminds me quite a bit of Ulu Grosbard's overlooked 1978 "Straight Time" in which Dustin Hoffman plays a paroled ex-burglar who cannot shake his former life. Both provide incisive looks into the hardscrabble existence of people trying desperately to reform, but in doing so, the stories become so desultory and the situations start to have a by-the-numbers feeling that the dramatic momentum dissipates toward their inevitable conclusions.

Directed and written by Laurie Collyer, the film takes an unflinching look at Sherry Swanson, a former heroin addict just released on parole after three years in prison for robbery. Returning home to New Jersey, she is desperate to stay clean and sober in order to reclaim her young daughter Alexis from her sympathetic brother Bobby and his conflicted wife Lynette. Without drugs, Sherry's addictive behavior manifests itself in cigarettes, alcohol and emboldened sexual acts to get what she needs. Yet, her biggest addiction is her relentless pursuit of an idealized image of herself as a mother, and it is her disconnect with reality that produces the film's most poignant moments. Otherwise, the movie gets increasingly frustrating to watch because Collyer provides only hints of what Sherry brought her to her dilemma. What we see mainly are flashes of short-tempered narcissism when we see people understandably looking to emotionally disengage from her, including her indiscriminate father.

There are some surprisingly graphic scenes that show how Sherry uses her shopworn beauty as emotional armor when Collyer could have better used them to underline her melancholy mental state. In the face of these script shortcomings, Gyllenhaal displays enough dexterity to fill in a lot of the blanks, especially when she shows how Sherry starts realizing the depth of her accountability for her problems. Brad William Henke provides solid support as Bobby, as does Bridget Barkan as Lynette, Danny Trejo as a supportive fellow addict, Giancarlo Esposito as Sherry's hardened parole officer, and ebullient little Ryan Simpkins as Alexis. I have to admit I could not wait for the 96-minute movie to be over, but it is worthwhile for Gyllenhaal's courageous work as it is she who holds the film together. Sadly, the 2007 DVD does not contains any significant extras (a commentary from Gyllenhaal and Collyer would have been most welcome) other than the trailer.

Sherry Swanson (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is a recovering addict after serving prison time. She is placed in a halfway house and desperate to reconnect with her daughter who is living with her brother's family. She is perfectly willing to exchange sex for favors. She befriends Dean Walker (Danny Trejo) from the recovery meeting who recognizes her as a stripper. There is hostilities at the halfway house and she stays at her brother's home. It doesn't go well and she starts using again. Parole Officer Hernandez (Giancarlo Esposito) threatens her with prison time if she doesn't go back to treatment.

Maggie Gyllenhaal is great but Sherry is not terribly likable. She's a self-destructive addict who is a danger to her daughter. It's not until the bitter end that her self-obsessed destruction clears up. It would be better for her to build some more sympathy early on. It is still a devastating performance.

Maggie Gyllenhaal plays recently-paroled addict Sherry Swanson, an East Coast single mom struggling to stay clean and get to know her estranged pre-teen daughter whose been living with Sherry's brother. Gyllenhaal runs the risk of being completely unlikable playing this hard-shelled woman, one with a short fuse and no concept of how to live a straight life (to get her way, she uses her body); however, the role is a dream for a dramatic actress, and Gyllenhaal goes way out on a limb with her characterization. It is a brave, blistering acting turn, with nary a false note, and while the plot elements don't quite bloom and some sequences feel disappointingly aimless, Maggie Gyllenhaal is remarkably consistent, scary, ridiculously tough and straightforward, and so honest that her thoughts come out unedited--she's a human cliffhanger. The movie is really about dealing with your anger and your shame, and it's directed toward a very satisfying finish, but that doesn't make many painful scenes any easier to watch. When some people screw up, they tend to do it in full view of the world; this is Sherry Swanson--and while she's angry and hurt and frustrated, writer-director Laurie Collyer is careful not to alienate us from Sherry's feelings. We share in them--without sentimentality--and the returns are worthy but tough to shake off. **1/2 from ****