Skip to main content

Hilary Swank

 In "Ordinary Angels," Hilary Swank is Sharon Stevens, an addict. When she is under the influence, she hears the voice of her mother ("a mean drunk"), and she begins to berate herself. This happens even in public. She injures herself, then blames the "nasty furniture" for having been aggressive.


Sharon happens to meet a local dad--Alan--who is facing "Job-level" experiences of suffering. With an addict's mania and ferocity, Sharon decides to "fix" Alan. If the solution to a drug problem is the discovery of something "bigger than oneself," Sharon decides she will turn Alan into her discovery. She repairs his business. She creates a media campaign to help with his medical bills. She arranges for private planes and a helicopter (this concerns a crucial liver transplant); she squares off against greedy collection agencies. There are always high heels in the frame; the clicking of Sharon's heels becomes something like a drumbeat in a ritual dance. Sharon is (almost) always ready for war.

Despite her heroics, Sharon can't beat the bottle. At times, she believes she is merely, quietly "cheating"; a few extra swallows won't mean anything. But the crutch is more than a crutch; any stressful situation sends Sharon back to her voda, and, inevitably, a big, self-destructive moment does happen in public (it's not behind closed doors, as Sharon would prefer).

Just to state what you might be inferring: This movie does feel dangerously close to "Lifetime" territory. You could outline most of the plot twists long, long before they occur. But the thing that makes the script special is Hilary Swank. Somehow, Swank is always fully aware of the high stakes--and she conveys the right sense of urgency without over-acting. She persuades you that she is fighting for her life. I feel bad for Alan Ritchson, who has to share the screen with Swank; it's like going toe-to-toe with Shakespeare, in a poetry contest.

Swank grew up in a trailer park; she read novels and watched movies because she felt like an outsider. Her gifts of observation meant that she had to act; it wasn't really a choice. She has been on the screen for approximately thirty years; even when the writing is bad, she just seems to enjoy what she is doing. It's a great pleasure to watch her.

Swank had me sobbing like a baby, in this new one; the script came from Kelly Fremon Craig, who has some tricks up her sleeve. A rare treat for the month of February.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

The Death of Bergoglio

  It's frustrating for me to hear Bergoglio described as "the less awful pope"--because awful is still awful. I think I get fixated on ideas of purity, which can be juvenile, but putting that aside, here are some things that Bergoglio could have done and did not. (I'm quoting from a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of the Church.) He could levy the harshest penalty, excommunication, against a dozen or more of the most egregious abuse enabling church officials. (He's done this to no enablers, or predators for that matter.) He could insist that every diocese and religious order turn over every record they have about suspected and known abusers to law enforcement. Francis could order every prelate on the planet to post on his diocesan website the names of every proven, admitted and credibly accused child molesting cleric. (Imagine how much safer children would be if police, prosecutors, parents and the public knew the identities of these potentially dangerous me...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...