Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and brief sexuality
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.14.17
Film, despite the potential of
its myriad elements, rarely delivers the intensity of a powerful stage
performance.
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| Everett (Ethan Hawke) can't understand why Maudie (Sally Hawkins) puts so much painstaking — and painful — effort into her delicate watercolor paintings. As far as he's concerned, they only interfere with her primary purpose: to feed him on time. |
There’s something electrifying
about being in the presence of a truly charismatic actor: one who slides wholly
into a role with an authoritative snap that crushes any thought of looking
elsewhere. Every move, gesture and sentence are riveting; we’re simply spellbound.
You don’t very often get that
from a film performance.
Here’s one.
Sally Hawkins’ title role in Maudie is the stuff of cinematic legend:
not merely a role that should bring her an Academy Award, but one destined to
be remembered for a long, long time. It’s a delicately crafted, sensitively
delivered characterization that transcends the term “acting,” and becomes
something truly wondrous.
That said, this Canadian/Irish
co-production doesn’t make it easy on Stateside viewers unfamiliar with Maud
Lewis, a humble 20th century Nova Scotia woman who — unexpectedly,
astonishingly — became one of Canada’s most famous folk artists. Director
Aisling Walsh and scripter Sherry White dump us — without title credits,
preamble or any sort of back-story — into the drab, day-to-day frustration of
Maudie’s thirtysomething routine.
It’s the mid-1930s. Maudie lives
with her Aunt Ida (Gabrielle Rose) in the tiny community of Digby: a “kept” existence
arranged by her condescending brother Charles (Zachary Bennett), her only
sibling. He calls her “Sister,” unwilling to grant her even the small dignity
of her own name. Both their parents are dead; Charles arrives one morning to
inform Maudie that he has sold the family home — without bothering to consult
her — to settle outstanding debts.
He dumps her meager belongings,
including a set of paintbrushes, and departs. Hastily.
He’s ashamed and embarrassed by
her, and believes that she cannot care for herself. Maudie suffers the
debilitating after-effects of childhood rheumatoid arthritis, which has left
her body wracked with pain and twisted at odd angles.
