SAINT BE PRAISED...
SAINT FRANCES (15)
L★★★★☆
IFE begins at 34 in director Alex Thompson’s awardwinning comedy drama about a rudderless singleton, who confronts deep-rooted fears and insecurities after she fumbles her way into a position of responsibility caring for a six-year-old girl.
Saint Frances coolly navigates hot button topics – abortion, post-natal depression, breastfeeding in public – with understated elegance and candour.
The script, co-written by Thompson and lead actress Kelly O’Sullivan, revels in the minutiae of everyday life and, refreshingly, does not blow out of proportion the central character’s stumbles on her way to self-enlightenment.
A one-night stand, which might be played for gross-out giggles in clumsier hands, is a catalyst for genuine tenderness.
A potentially harrowing consultation about the termination of an unplanned pregnancy is casually punctuated by an ultrasound technician who asks, “Do you want to know if it’s twins?”
Pacing is deliberately slow to allow contemplative words to breathe and the cast to fully inhabit richly drawn roles including a star-making turn from wunderkind Ramona Edith-Williams as the Frances of the title, who strikes a perfect balance between cuteness and precocity.
Bridget (O’Sullivan) is a restaurant waitress clamouring for direction in her uneventful life.
“You’re in your 20s, it gets better,” a stranger assures her at a party.
“Actually I’m 34,” coolly responds Bridget.
The same night, she sleeps with nice guy Jace (Max Lipchitz) and falls pregnant.
With Jace’s unwavering support, Bridget opts for a termination shortly before she attends an interview for the position of nanny in an
affluent suburb of Chicago.
Annie (Lily Mojekwu) and Maya (Charin Alvarez) are looking for someone to care for their bright, rambunctious daughter Frances (EdithWilliams).
The mothers are taken aback by Bridget’s unvarnished honesty when they probe her relationship with her older brother.
“He has a job and a house
and is very responsible. We don’t have a lot in common,” she responds.
Bridget lands the job as a last-minute replacement for the preferred candidate and awkwardly integrates into the family. She witnesses tension between Frances’ mothers and forges a deep bond of trust with her obstinate charge, who asserts that it is better for an adult to read her a book because “hearing it helps my brain development”.
Saint Frances is a beautifully calibrated portrait of lives in chaotic motion, underpinned by sparkling on-screen rapport between O’Sullivan and scene-stealer EdithWilliams, particularly in a divine church confessional.
Confident writing complements the excellent performances, cherishing the gradual development of the characters.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m an agnostic feminist!” remarks Bridget as she opens the floodgates to openly discuss her feelings.
We know why we are crying – because Thompson’s picture trades unabashedly in raw emotion and we buy every heartfelt and bittersweet word.