Worth: $16.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Andrea Riseborough, Owen Teague, Allison Janney, Stephen Root, Marc Maron, James Landry Herbert, Andre Royo, Catfish Jean
Intro:
… imperfect, it’s not breaking the mould of redemption stories, but it remains a solid entry into the canon.
Much has been made of Andrea Riseborough’s extraordinary performance as Leslie, a broken woman whose addiction to alcohol has ruined every relationship she had in her small west Texan town.
An addict, Leslie blew through a $190,000 lottery win by partying with the whole town and simultaneously neglecting her then thirteen-year-old son James (played by Owen Teague six years later). Leslie has hit rock bottom so many times, she just accepts it as the place she belongs.
Screenwriter Ryan Bianco took the personal story of his mother and turned it into something more universal, which acts as an indictment of the cycle of poverty and addiction and the lack of support for people who constantly slip through the cracks if they can’t find a support network.
The film begins with a montage showing Leslie as she grows up in her small town. She marries, has a son, suffers domestic abuse, begins partying in earnest and then out of the blue she wins the lottery which she hopes will make a better life for her and James. Six years later, she is being evicted from an anonymous cheap motel for lack of payment. All she has is a pink suitcase and an aggressive attitude. Her ability to charm men and keep friends has long dissipated and her life in dive bars leads to violence.
With nowhere to go, she contacts James who is living in an urban region of Texas. James is now nineteen and hasn’t seen Leslie since her partying got out of control. He’s wounded but also wants to reconnect with his down-and-out mother. Leslie promises things will be different this time – Leslie promises a lot of things. But she’s an addict and her addiction comes first.
Riseborough and Teague both play their interactions with painful authenticity. James cannot mother the mother who abandoned him. Leslie blames everyone for her problems, including James. She’s in a never-ending spiral. When Leslie takes to stealing from James’ roommate Darren (Catfish Jean), it’s the end of the line for the wounded son who sends her away to stay with Leslie’s erstwhile friends Nancy (Allison Janney) and Dutch (Stephen Root).
Back in the town that shamed her, but also enabled her when the cash was flowing into their cups, Leslie is further humiliated. Dutch and Nancy make it clear that the only reason she is allowed in their home is James (and there is the suggestion that Leslie may have partially paid for the home). Their anger towards her is palpable but there is a local resident for whom the resentment of Leslie is near obsessive – Pete (James Landry Herbert) enacts every kind of cruelty he can think of on Leslie. From shaming her for her loss of the lottery money to trying to rape her because he bought her a bottle of vodka. It enrages Pete (who has gone nowhere and done nothing, existing on disability payments) that Leslie would believe herself above his advances. As we watch Leslie in the local bar trying to entice men to pay attention to her, Pete also watches and ensures that Dutch and Nancy throw her out.
To Leslie is a shaggy redemption story that is unflinching, as we see Leslie constantly outcast. Her totemic pink suitcase is always sitting outside doors. It’s the pink suitcase that puts her in the path of kindly motel manager, Sweeney (Marc Maron), who is living at the motel with his friend and LSD burnout, Royal (Andre Royo). In an act that he can’t even fathom, Sweeney offers Leslie a job cleaning the motel – $7 an hour with room and board. From here, the film switches gears into showing how hard it is to climb out of addiction, but also becomes a slow burn love story between Sweeney and Leslie.
As much as To Leslie is Riseborough’s film – her gritty and authentic representation of an addict, who is deeply flawed and vulnerable is rightfully deserving of acclaim, the film also belongs to the gentle masculinity of Marc Maron. Riseborough is an acting powerhouse, but for everyone to be operating on her level would make director Michael Morris’ vision seem overwrought. Maron’s stillness in Riseborough’s hurricane is the perfect combination of their talents.
The film is formulaic at times. It is also sometimes heavy handed; a particular late night bar scene features Willie Nelson’s ‘Are You Sure’ – immediately Leslie scoffs, but she melts into the lyrics. Perhaps, it is Morris and Bianco’s way of showing that many people in America end up drunk and lonely like Leslie, but the film hasn’t been shy about showing Leslie’s hellish existence, nor has it limited addiction only to her character.
Shot on 35mm film, Morris’ work in conjunction with cinematographer Larkin Seiple gives To Leslie a weary lived-in feel that is punctuated with lonely and broken places. Much of the film takes place in tired bars, on highways, near railroads. The few moments of beauty seem revelatory because they are so sparsely applied. Morris never looks down on the communities that he’s representing. His work is empathetic, but it also shows that there is a trap built into the American system that keeps poor people poor.
Owen Teague (definitely a talent to watch) is excellent as James, and Andre Royo shines as Royal. Janney and Root’s characters could have been better fleshed out. As mentioned, Marc Maron is key to the film, building a gentle and deserved empathy, but everyone will be transfixed by Riseborough.
To Leslie is a very good film, although it never quite reaches being great. It would have disappeared almost completely without Riseborough’s performance and subsequent Oscar nomination. The film has its flaws, including deeply cliched dialogue – “You’re what’s wrong with your life. Not anyone else,” says Sweeney to Leslie as she rails against how she’s been treated. To an extent, it’s true, but also Leslie didn’t expect to end up a pariah, there were circumstances that led her into addiction, and she has a right to speak of them.
If for no other reason than watching Andrea Riseborough give a master-class in acting, To Leslie is worth the price of admission. It is also worthwhile to see Marc Maron give the performance of his career where he channels his own pain and heartbreak into a role that is defined by compassion. To Leslie is imperfect, it’s not breaking the mould of redemption stories, but it remains a solid entry into the canon.
