Sherrybaby

Here's what I liked about Sherrybaby:

1. Maggie Gyllenhaal gives an effective, appealing performance and gets somewhat naked. 2. The movie manages to just avoid happily-ever-after clichés. 3. There are subtle hints to the backstory rather than obvious manipulations.

But it's not really enough. There are plenty of scenes in the movie that just seem to lag a bit as if something might poke through the ennui and stir things up, but not really. So color this one as a half-step above the usual woman-making-it-right-when-she's-done-so-wrong movie. But only a half-step.

Sherry Swanson (Gyllenhaal) is out of prison after doing a stretch for robbery and drugs and basic slutty, scummy behavior. We first see her arrive at the halfway house at which she's to spend the rest of her sentence. Ah, she's finally out, and she's going to do the right thing this time, you'll see! You can almost see her eyes twinkle.

Sherry has a daughter she hasn't seen since she was in stir, named Alexis. Alexis has been cared for lo these many years by Sherry brother Bob and his wife Lynnette. Bob picks Sherry up at the halfway house and brings her to his house for the reunion, and of course Alexis is excited to see a new person who smothers her in attention. But it's not long before young Alexis is calling her "Sherry" instead of "Mommy," which Sherry takes as a sign that Bob and Lynnette are trying to take her baby away from her. (As if they needed to try; Sherry's not gonna get custody anytime soon.)

Sherry also tangles with her parole officer, played with some gusto by Giancarlo Esposito, who isn't going to cut her much slack. Which is just as well, because pretty much every other guy in the movie somehow succumbs to Sherry's charms and does what she wants. It's when she doesn't get her way that things go all pissy. See, Sherry's not really what you'd call proactive; she expects things to work out for her without her doing any of the work. So, to speed things along, she takes certain immoral shortcuts. In fact, after watching the first thirty minutes or so, I thought I'd put in a porno by mistake. I mean, I thought I'd been sent the wrong disk by Netflix. Yeah, that. Anyway, the pattern seemed to be: 1) Decide to do something. 2) Approach male who could facilitate that. 3) Have sex with male. 4) Repeat if necessary.

So far, so good - Sherry isn't a completely new person when she emerges from the clink, and that at least feels realistic, because how often are ex-cons completely rehabilitated and never do anything wrong, ever again? Probably not very many. Forget recidivism, because that includes only those who got caught. At any rate, Sherry's still a slut. And prone to profanity, as she doesn't mind dropping f-bombs in front of her kid, who she's trying to win over.

Then you have the eventual relapse, and visits to a support group, and new friends. But this isn't a hugs-and-kisses kind of movie - even though Sherry holds hands with everyone in the group and pledges to be free of her demons, we all know she might never, and we question her commitment to same. That's fine, because in reality it's an extremely difficult undertaking, and to me if she'd overcome everything too easily, all similarity to reality would be out the door. But director Laurie Collyer played it straight, giving the film a good boost of authenticity.

Movies like this usually aren't my bag at all. If I wanted to see a movie about a bad girl making her way in the world, I'd turn on Lifetime. Oh, sure, I know there's an audience for strong, independent women, but clearly I'm not it. So I didn't expect this to be all that wonderful; I'd just heard that Gyllenhaal was good in it. And I like her. And she was. Plus, she got naked! So, for those positives, it's not too bad of a movie. A bit grim in spots, and it's very gritty - drug use, sex, language all make appearances. Still, it IS a well-made film about a strong, independent woman who doesn't have all of the answers.

The rehabilitation of an ex-convict can provide juicy stories so this should be no exception, as glamorous, short-skirted jailbird Sherry Swanson (Maggie Gyllenhaal from 'The Secretary') leaves prison yearning desperately to be re-united with her young and very lovable child Alexis. The telling of the story tries hard not to follow conventions and seems to have considerable integrity, yet by building high expectations it can almost not fail to charm and disappoint in equal measure.

With a beautiful background song, 'Some Kind of Heaven', we join Sherry as she starts parole and arrives at a half-way house, bible in hand, full of excitement and hope. Her character, skilfully conveyed by Gyllenhaal, alternates between that of a warm, charismatic individual and the more archetypical ex-prisoner. She has worked hard to reform herself during her incarceration, kicking drugs, studying parenting courses, developing her faith, and now has a beautiful warm smile that melts cold hearts; but just when you might worry about being subjected to an hour and a half of saccharin, she snaps when pushed, swears copiously, threatens a fellow ex-con that pushes her around and, when the employment manager looks set to consign her to waiting tables in a restaurant, tells him frankly, "I'll suck your dick if you give me the job I want." Starting a new life and getting back with her daughter proves hard as events conspire around her. Someone from Sherry's rehab programme recognises her from a strip club where she worked at age 16; her parole officer is hard on her just at the time when she her new dream job starts taking off; Alexis' foster parents are rightly cautious about having her around, and her father is a pervert. At first she uses sex as a release for her jealousies and frustrations with life, but soon progresses to alcohol and worse. Her self-confidence worn down, she realises she is only angry at herself and her inability to cope as well as she would like. Ironically, and perhaps with more humour than intended, she admits, "I'm just mad cos I suck." At one point she rejects a down to earth life-changing programme in favour of her Good Book, and sceptics might feel that leaning on religion in this way hardly does her any favours. Sherry's problem is maybe that she wants to 'reform' only to the extent she deems necessary to raise her child, but her comprehension of the task facing is like someone looking through a keyhole.

Realistic fly-on-the-wall performances prevent Sherrybaby from descending into a sentimental hard luck story. Society feels sympathy for someone in her predicament, but society - and also the law - feels even more concern when a defenceless child is caught up in the midst. The task of reintegrating with the outside world may be an almost impossible one, and Sherry fights bravely (even if we disapprove of some of her methods) but the increasing worry - and one that the movie, to its credit, doesn't dodge - is for the well-being of Alexis. Even left to her own devices (which she isn't), Alexis, unable to comprehend the complexity of what's happening around her, would probably gravitate to those adults radiating the emotional stability of her foster parents rather than the gushing love coupled with violent verbal or physical outbursts of her real mother. In one scene, Sherry violently rebukes a parent who is shaking and berating her son. Whatever the moral justification, Alexis is frightened and backs away.

Sherrybaby's weakness is that meanders on too long for the amount of underlying plot. Repeated family reunions add little to the story and begin to look like a TV documentary that goes on just slightly past its sell-by date. But to its credit it tackles a difficult subject with honesty, includes some gutsy performances, doesn't flinch from including very believable adult subject matter, and is quite enjoyable as long as you don't expect too much.

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 ****

Maggie Gyllenhaal is one of America's finest actors and in SHERRY BABY she pulls out a performance that is gut wrenching, painful to watch, but is a character we are rooting for throughout the film. In the last frame you feel her heartache and the compelling need to want her to have a life that is better than the one she has led.

SHERRY BABY reminds me of Ryan Gosling's HALF NELSON in the struggle to overcome drugs and make something out of your life. Too bad that Sherry has to follow such a dark, long road before she can come into her own and move beyond her painful past. The one scene in the film with the father at the birthday party will stay with me forever, as now you can fully understand her anguish and pain.

Maggie Gyllenhaal should be remembered at Award Season as her Sherry is a character that stays with you for a long time, and is someone that makes you want to like, respect and help her secure a new life. Bravo, Sherry, for your bravery, and for having such a skilled actress as Maggie Gyllenhaal portray your life.

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.