Sherrybaby
Writer/director, Laurie Collyer, herself a survivor of, as she says, “the post 60’s drug culture” gives us a film of survivors and victims. Maggie Gyllenhaal stars as Sherry Swanson, released from prison at age twenty-two after doing three years for robbery (to support her heroin habit). Getting out, as we see, is only the beginning of her struggle to reunite with her young daughter, Alexis (Ryan Sympkins).
Movie Review: Sherrybaby
It’s no easy task for an audience to watch the practice and consequences of drug addiction, so it takes a story and especially a convincing actor to pull it off: Gyllenhaal does it in Sherrybaby, but not without a cost. Her character is, not surprisingly, unsympathetic; we still tend to judge drug addicts as criminals, deserving of their own fates. So as they spiral down toward self-destruction, we lose interest.
Swanson is a fighter, trying to stay clean and reclaim the one hope in her life: her daughter. At least Collyer spared us the tragic victim approach as Gyllenhaal gives us a person of psychological damage (a molesting father, Sam Bottoms, with a small part); a woman/girl of childish expectations who even uses sex as would the sixteen-year old dancer who she was–and still is; and a street-wise ex-con female trying to survive probation in Newark New Jersey.
The system, represented by her no-nonsense parole officer (Giancarlo Esposito),
and the halfway house she is required to live in, become equally as daunting obstacle to her mission of retrieving her daughter.
Collyer’s style of film, a hand-held camera drifting in and out of conversations, with disconcerting close-ups into the expressions of the actors, gives us no relief from the internal and external struggles of the entire cast. Her experience in documentaries shows here as well (Nuyorican Dream about an impoverished NY Puerto Rican family).
Sherry’s brother, Bob (Brad Henke) is, thankfully, a refuge in Sherry’s battleground; but only in the traditional world she wishes to join–motherhood and family.
The real soul-mate is the fellow “twelve step” classmate, Dean, played by the remarkable recovered drug addict (in real life) turned-actor, Danny Trejo. He just has the face; one look and you KNOW where he’s been.
Dean’s line to Sherry, meeting her for the first time outside the AA meeting sums up the film. A pastor/program leader is trying to counsel her when Dean says, “she’s not listening to you, man, she’s got other things on her mind.” So she and Dean pair up. We would rather trust someone who is wearing the same uniform; no matter what our circumstances.
So where does the film go? You can’t expect an audience to join the struggle unless there is a turn in the road at some point. In Sherrybaby, Sherry doesn’t really make a turn. She just puts on the breaks. Surviving is not enough for us as a viewer, unless survival comes with hope for change. There’s hope, even in Newark.
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