Marianne Jean-baptiste Rages Against Hard Truths In Bold, Biting Drama

In 2008, filmmaker Mike Leigh released Happy-Go-Lucky, a bright and breezy comedy (as alluded to by its title) that still managed to have the occasional dramatic bite. Hard Truths provides the antithesis, a film about sisters that plays as an unsettling social drama full of tears, bitterness, and familial consternation, but also contains a dash of humor that makes it far more than just about the dourness of a grieving daughter. 

Leigh’s films are filled with deeply realized characters, quotidian situations that manage to feel epic, and exquisite interplay of dialogue that feels extremely casual but, of course, is deeply calculated on the page before a frame is shot. Despite Hard Truths’ somewhat claustrophobic interior settings, Leigh along with his long-time cinematographer Dick Pope use subtle camera movements and clever compositions to keep even the most austere spaces engaging.

Just as Leigh’s proclivity for chamber piece-like narratives is well known, his ability to showcase supreme acting talent is equally legendary. Here the main focus is on Marianne Jean-Baptiste in an astonishing turn, a wild and explosive character realized with multiple layers of nuance that lay sometimes hidden amongst the wild rantings. Oscar-nominated for Leigh’s 1996 Palme d’Or winner Secrets & Lies, Jean-Baptiste plays a force of nature, mining a deep vein of acerbic misery.

Jean-Baptiste plays Pansy, the mother to the taciturn Moses (Tuwaine Barrett) and married to his henpecked father Curtley (David Webber). Pansy’s proclivity for confrontation is unrelenting, be it in the confines of her home or in the checkout line at a grocery store. It’s a character that could easily become tiresome, a two-dimensional ranting bulldozer, laying waste to all those in her path. Yet there’s a deft sophistication at play, small nuances that both Jean-Baptiste and Leigh’s camera capture, from the fear in her eyes when she recognizes she’s gone too far to the shameful joy when she feels she’s truly humbled her prey with yet another rapidfire salvo of invective.

Her younger sister Chantelle (Michele Austin) is gregarious, running a hair salon and engaging in light gossip among her patrons. Home with her daughters Kayla (Ani Nelson) and Aleisha (Sophia Brown), the contrast in home life couldn’t be clearer. While Moses cloisters himself in his room playing video games, or wandering the streets with headphones to block out the outside world, Chantelle’s family lays interlocked while engaged in warm conversation, their touching limbs demonstrating a familial closeness on their branch as much as their playful teasing and open conversations about their feelings underscores their affection for one another. When Pansy and Chantelle’s families interact, the contrast between the two modes of home life becomes all the more overt.

As Hard Truths unfolds, workplace challenges undercut the joyful spirits of Chantelle’s daughters, while Curtley only seems to come out of his shell when on the job, plumbing pipes and engaging with the world in ways that at home are masked by his silence. While Hard Truths navigates around Pansy and her explosive rhetoric, its brilliance lies in how each storyline unfolds in ways that gives justice to each character’s sensibilities. Beyond the kinetic, explosive rage of Pansy are all these other elements, the mosaic that makes the family dynamic, that sets the story apart from being a maudlin excuse for mining misery.

Leigh’s precise writing impressively captures these dynamics, the contrasts in character never overwhelming the disparate elements. Curtley’s silence, for example, is played with such interiority that it could almost be confused with ineffectiveness, yet the smallest of rebellions speaks that much louder when they occur. Similarly, when one comes to wonder why anyone would actually allow Pansy’s tumultuous tantrums without rising to the bait, Hard Truths’ characters react convincingly without making them mere victims or her scorn. Nothing simple or cathartic is laid out here, no sudden shift where after all these years lessons are learned and obstacles overcome. Instead, this is a profound family story, one where acceptance does not mean agreement, and a refusal to drink in another’s poisonous rage is not a sign of superhuman fortitude, but recognition that keeping the bonds, as frayed as they are, is better than severing them.

The hard truth about Hard Truths is that the film isn’t always an easy watch. Pansy’s protestations are occasionally tiresome, and the lack of reciprocal confrontation, save for a few minor responses, make it feel slightly neutered. Yet it's this dance between grief, mental illness, and the inability to more formally communicate that is contagious throughout its narrative, with each individual manifesting their own ways to cope with the various traumas that life throws at them. Each navigates these truths as best they can, each either lashing out and pushing away, or reaching out to those closest to them in order to find support.

In some ways Hard Truths follows the classic Leigh path, in others it’s a boldly uncompromising work that strips some of the more cheerful elements to the bone. Yet despite this, there’s still a sense of warmth, of optimism, of quiet humor that shows how this deft storyteller can still surprise and enthrall, incorporating another exceptional ensemble willing and able to do the work to bring his lines to life.

Hard Truths is another fine chapter in a remarkable career, a movie where a veteran filmmaker is still engaging with challenging situations in ways that feel documentary in their precision and operatic in their scope. The story of Pansy, Chantelle, and their family members is one that’s both highly specific and decidedly universal, making for a prickly but nonetheless rewarding film.

(This review originally ran on September 17, 2024 after the film's TIFF premiere.)

Director: Mike Leigh

Writer: Mike Leigh

Starring: Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Michele Austin, David Webber, Tuwaine Barrett, Ani Nelson, Sophia Brown, Jonathan Livingstone

Release Date: December 6, 2024