Mum’s the word in this unmerry-go-round
Superb performances elevate mother-daughter fare in Empire of Dirt
Mother and daughter dynamics can be tough at the best of times, but throw in a history laced with abandonment, substance abuse and teen pregnancy, and the already delicate connection can fray into ugly loose ends.
For Peeka (Shay Eyre) and Lena (Cara Gee), the situation only seems to get worse, partly because no one appears to have a great grasp on how to make things better.
Stuck on the unmerry-go-round of self-loathing, Lena is on the verge of transferring her own baggage to her teenage daughter, because when Lena was a kid living with her mom Minerva (Jennifer Podemski) that’s what happened to her.
At one point in this talk-heavy and undeniably earnest piece penned by Shannon Masters, we hear how Lena grew up in a parking lot with her teenage mom, who ruined the family with her gambling addiction.
Now a mother to a young daughter of her own, Lena is doing her best to keep things on the straight and narrow by cleaning houses and helping aboriginal youth at the local community centre.
Considered a role model for youth at risk as a result of tackling her own addictions, Lena feels a little boxed in by expectation and trapped by her past, but she keeps trudging through the days until money problems force her to move back home.
There’s one particularly great image showing Lena and Peeka arriving back at the reserve that sets up the whole act that follows. Stebbings starts the shot on the dirt road, in a muddy puddle, as the upside-down reflection of mother and daughter emerge from the brown pool.
In three short seconds, Stebbings hints at the core themes of alienation, chaos and the hope for watery maternal communion.
It’s nicely done, and so is the rest of this well-intentioned and finely crafted drama that explores the legacy of the love deficit created by white government intervention in First Nations communities via residential schools.
The characters talk about the transference of shame and how one person has to finally take a stand in order to stop the cycle of pain. They talk about dealing with the past and the weight of lies that can sink even buoyant spirits.
In short, Empire of Dirt pulls us down to the ground and literally throws our faces in manure so we can feel and empathize with the indelible stain on Lena’s soul. It gets to the root of all dislocation and selfabuse by tackling what happens to a person starved of affection and a sense of belonging, and plants a seed of change in the resulting furrow.
There are times when it all feels a little too much like an after-school special made for APTN, but Stebbings’ shooting style has more than enough originality to make things feel more textured than your standard CBC drama.
Also working in this film’s favour is a trio of gorgeous performances from the three female leads. Cara Gee brings a soulful feistiness to the linchpin character of Lena. We like her because she’s smart, and even when she screws up, we can feel the core of her integrity.
Shay Eyre (daughter of screenwriter Chris Eyre) isn’t just lens candy with her huge brown eyes, tan skin and full lips, the young actress blends sensuality with toughness and just enough sarcasm to deliver a completely believable teenager.
Podemski’s wise, and wisecracking, crone seals the dramatic deal, ensuring Empire of Dirt achieves a certain narrative wholeness and succeeds at what it set out to achieve: Tell a story of pain without losing hope.