Mother, daughter reverse roles
Screenwriter delivers insightful, funny drama
In any other dysfunctional mother-daughter movie, Anastasia Phillips would be the messed-up one. Her character, 35-year-old Catherine Macdonald, works part-time in a bar in the grungiest corner of Hamilton, Ont. Her boyfriend, Reggie (Aaron Ashmore), is an unhappily married man and a contender for a-hole of the year. Her car is so beat-up that when Reggie’s wife spraypaints “skank” on the side, it’s almost an improvement.
But then we meet Felicity Huffman as Tammy, her mom. Actually, the film puts her in the opening scene, preparing to jump off a bridge, something she does at the end of every month when the welfare runs out and she can’t afford a drink. Catherine has to haul her back from the edge, and is forced to do much more when Tammy is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Catherine may not be the most together person, but when you’re dealing with an alcoholic parent, it’s all relative.
Tammy’s Always Dying features a screenplay from first-timer Joanne Sarazen, and direction by actor-turned-filmmaker Amy Jo Johnson. The story is as messy as the characters’ lives, and sometimes tries to do a little too much — a subplot in which Catherine goes on a reality show to profit from her mom’s bad parenting is funny but feels like a narrative stub. Fully developed, it could have been its own movie.
That said, even the secondary characters in this brief (85-minute) drama feel fully fleshed out and lived in. They include Clark Johnson as Catherine’s boss and best buddy Doug; Kristian Bruun as a bartender who takes pity on her; and Lauren Holly as the rapacious booker of the fictional Gordon Baker Show, which hooks its guests with the promise: “Your tragedy has value.”
But it’s the dynamic between Tammy and her daughter that make this such a watchable and occasionally hilarious drama. Take the scene when Catherine takes her TV money and buys a new Toyota Camry. Her mom looks at it like it’s a BMW: “That is one fancy f---ing vehicle!”
Huffman clearly relished the chance to play a woman coming apart at the seams, and she sells the character. “I’m not a good person,” she confesses at one point. “I’m a good time.”
And without getting too preachy, the screenplay manages to slip in some lovely, thought-provoking sentiments about adult children with childish parents. When Catherine despairs at looking after her mom, who doesn’t seem to appreciate the effort, her best friend consoles her with: “This is about the woman you become when this is all over.” It’s a wise sentiment, but Catherine has an equally important rejoinder: “What about the woman I am now?”