“Suze,” a new film featuring “Tiny Beautiful Things” star Michaela Watkins, and now playing in theatres, is an empty nest dramedy about a mother who takes an unusual path to combat the loneliness she feels when her daughter leaves town for university.
After discovering her husband cheating with their golf pro, Suze (Watkins) is once again confronted by abandonment when daughter Brooke (Sara Waisglass) announces she is moving to Montreal to attend McGill University. Although she is assured by a colleague that she’ll find time for herself in her daughter’s absence—“You’re finally free!”—she instead feels alone and adrift. “I am terrified of losing her,” she says.
And she’s not the only one.
Brooke’s heart-broken, Spicoli-wannabe ex-boyfriend Gage (Charles Gillespie), who plays guitar in a band called The Emotional Morons, falls to pieces and lands in the hospital. “It hurts in places I didn’t even know could hurt,” he says.
Gage’s father (Aaron Ashmore) isn’t available to help him recuperate, so Suze reluctantly allows him to stay with her for a couple weeks. “It’s kinda funny Suze,” Gage says, “how we both got left by the same person.”
Over time, they work through their heartbreak, finding strength in other’s company as they really get to know one another.
“Suze” is a never-judge-a-book-by-its-cover story, with a few laughs, some earned heartfelt moments and heaps of compassion. The daughter is a McGuffin, more a plot device to put the odd couple story in motion than anything else. The important and appealing part of the story is the relationship between Suze and Gage, everything else is set dressing.
There is a great chemistry between Watkins and Gillespie.
Suze moves from mistrustful to maternal as Gage’s innocent, natural charm becomes obvious, but Watkins avoids sentimentality in her approach to the burgeoning relationship. She has an edge, born of anger, experience and frustration that can be heartfelt, dramatic or comedic depending on the situation.
Gillespie brings the off-kilter energy of a guy who has been misunderstood his entire life. His performance is a winning mix of guilelessness and charisma, one that easily could have been a caricature but emerges fully formed.
What binds them both is their natural approach to kindness and compassion.
The key to “Suze’s” success is the way it presents a platonic relationship based on mutual respect and how they give one another a reason to embrace the battle scars that formed them, and move ahead toward happiness.
“The Retreat,” now streaming on VOD, is a survivalist horror film that sees big city couple Renee (Tommie-Amber Pirie) and Valerie (Sarah Allen) out of their element and fighting for their lives in the remote countryside.
Renee and Valerie are at the, “If this isn’t going anywhere you have to let me know,” stage of their relationship. Valerie wants to go to the next level, Renee is elusive. Affectionate but noncommittal. “I’m trying to talk to someone who clearly has trouble with adult conversation and avoiding conflict,” Valerie says.”
A weekend away at a cabin with friends seems like the tonic their relationship needs, but doesn’t turn out as planned. They arrive to find the place deserted with no sign of friends Connor (Chad Connell) and Scott (Munroe Chambers). Alone in unfamiliar surroundings, the couple stumble across some unsettling signs. They hear sounds in the woods and a deer’s head strung between two trees unnerves Valerie but Renee, who used to hunt with her family, is less freaked out. “We were there to reduce the population by selective slaughter,” she says, foreshadowing an inner strength that will soon come in handy.
As darkness falls, they are convinced someone is watching from the woods and soon they’re in a battle for their lives against militant extremists determined to kill them simply because they are “different.” “Time to cull,” says killer Gavin before the axes start swinging.
Played out over a tight 82 minutes, “The Retreat” doesn’t waste time in setting up its characters and situation. Building atmosphere and a sense of tension through the remote setting and strain between Valerie and Renee, director Pat Mills gets down to business quickly, amping up the eeriness with jump scares and an eerie soundtrack.
These scenes are effective enough, although once the darkness hits, physically and metaphysically, the film itself goes dark with low light photography that sometimes makes it hard to see what’s happening.
So far, it’s a typical cabin-in-the-woods set-up but with one major difference.
What sets “The Retreat” apart from other rural survivalist films is its subtext. Horror is not often kind to LGBTQ+ characters, treating them as villains or killing them off soon after the opening credits have roiled. Here they are front and center. Hunted by a group of heavily armed losers simply because of who they are, Renee and Valerie fight back.
“The Retreat” is a welcome twist on the survival genre from a queer director and female screenwriter that mixes anxiety, horror and empowerment.
At the bar Tammy (Felicity Huffman) is what’s known as a character. “I’m not a good person,” she says. “I’m a good time.” She’s always the life of the party, with a drink in her hand and a quip on her lips. When she’s too broke to afford booze she’s making her daughter Kathy’s (Anastasia Phillips) life miserable. Every month, when the money from her welfare cheque has run dry, Tammy goes through the same charade of marching down to the local bridge with the intention of ending it all. Kathy inevitably comes to the rescue and life goes on, repeating the cycle day in and out.
Kathy’s only respite from her mother’s lifestyle is a game of make believe she plays with her boss and old family friend, Doug (Clark Johnson). The two get dolled up, head to a fancy city bar and role play, pretending to be other, happier people. Their friendly bartender Jamie (Kristian Bruun) is in on the joke, and always goes along for the ride.
Just when it seems that Kathy is able to step away from the shadow of her mother’s influence, Tammy is diagnosed with terminal cancer. As a caregiver she’s drawn back into Tammy’s chaotic orbit but salvation may be around the corner. Television host Gordon Baker (Ali Hassan), a mix-and-match of Jerry Springer and Dr. Phil, is interested in the trashy aspects of Kathy’s story, and if she tells it well enough—with tears and all—he’s willing to make it worth her while.
“Tammy’s Always Dying” is a compelling character study anchored by remarkable performances. Huffman, almost unrecognizable as the narcissistic title character, makes sure that Tammy isn’t just a drunken spectacle, staggering through the film with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. She brings humanity to a character who could have been a foul-mouthed Foster Brooks style caricature. As Kathy, Phillips finds the balance between heartfelt love for her mother and hatred for the way she has been treated. It’s a tricky balance but Phillips finds it in a carefully calibrated performance that generates much sympathy as Kathy carves a future for herself despite dire circumstances.
It’s not all doom and gloom. Bruun and Johnson provide a respite from the misery, giving the film two characters who try and improve Kathy’s life without controlling her.
In the hands of actor-turned-director Amy Jo Johnson (working from a script by Joanne Sarazen) “Tammy’s Always Dying” transcends poverty porn by presenting characters whose struggles feel real and fully realized. It’s a tough talking movie—“Killing herself would be the least selfish thing she’s ever done!”—that, underneath its bluster, has a tender beating heart.
