Writer-director Mike Leigh hasn’t been too shy to talk about about how difficult it has become for him to make movies these days. He mentions it in nearly any interview he gives, even during press for a movie he’s just made. His latest film, Hard Truths, suffered the indignity of being rejected by the 2024 Cannes Film Festival, a festival where he in fact won the coveted Palme D’or in 1996. It was then rejected by Venice and Telluride before eventually premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival (I was lucky enough to see it at the New York Film Festival in October). This is all to say that Leigh speaks often of walls raising around him, and it’s hard to argue with him. But when you finally watch Hard Truths, a film that is not merely great but incredible, you begin to question the wisdom of these king-making festivals and what it was they were missing.
Sure, Hard Truths is not the easiest film to sit through, but then again, Leigh’s films rarely are. The exacting nature of his scripts and the performances that he nurtures speak to a reality that most movies (and people) refuse to acknowledge. At first glance, his characters can be difficult to parse, their behavior impossible to explain, but his stories reward patience, and that patience unlocks some of the greatest films of the last forty years. Truths reunites Leigh with Marianne Jean-Baptiste, who he last worked with in Secrets & Lies. Jean-Baptiste, in her twenties at the time, was nominated for Best Supporting Actress (unsurprisingly, Leigh claims she should have won). Twenty-eight years later, the two tackle a very different type of character, a woman so controlled and compelled by fear and rage that she alienates everybody around her.
From the trailer alone, Hard Truths feels like the bizarro version of his 2008 film Happy-Go-Lucky, in which Sally Hawkins is the most cloyingly nice and polite person in any room she’s in – a fact that sets her at odds with nearly every person she meets. Marianne Jean-Baptiste plays Pansy, the mirror image of Poppy. Where Poppy goes out of her way to console, arouse, and ingratiate, Pansy blasts fire and brimstone, oftentimes without even a hint of provocation. Pansy lives in suburban London with her husband, Curtley (David Webber), and her twenty-two year-old son, Moses (Tuwaine Barrett). The two men are emotionally catatonic, barely speaking, and when you meet Pansy, you understand why. Every movement they make is met with a torrent of complaints and insults, resentments spewing in every direction until they’re forced to just leave the room.
Pansy’s sister, Chantelle (Michele Austin, in an incredible performance), is a single mother. Her two daughters (Ani Nelson and Sophia Brown) are independent and career-oriented, but they still make time for their mother, having candid but loving conversations. Leigh’s cross-cutting of the two families, connected by blood but seemingly nothing else, only further highlights the level of Pansy’s despair, and the degree to which she takes it out on others. She rarely leaves her home, citing her poor health and the dangers of the public. When she does go out, she courts harassment from others. Should a shop employee venture to offer help, they’ll be met with a vitriol so out of proportion that shock is the only response. By the time Pansy makes it back home she falls asleep from the exhaustion.
It should be mentioned that this is a very funny movie, perhaps Leigh’s funniest since Happy-Go-Lucky. Pansy’s poor behavior is framed to make her rantings and ravings so absurd that it’s difficult to not chuckle. Not to mention that laughing is the easiest way to ease the tension of her violent temper. But this is still a definitive Leigh film, and we know that any and all laughing will come with consequences. One of the main plot points of the film is Chantelle wanting Pansy to join her to visit their mother’s grave on Mother’s Day. It’s been five years since their mother passed, and the wounds are still fresh. We learn that the sisters had a complicated relationship with their mother, and just at the moment that you feel like you can’t take any more of Pansy’s petulant complaining, Leigh begins to color her character with context.
Of course, there’s never an ah-ha moment, no secret key to explain Pansy’s outrageous behavior. Instead, Leigh focuses so much time on Pansy that we begin to see experiences through her eyes. There’s grief, loneliness, and resentment all competing for the reasons behind her hostility. A lifetime of pain has calloused her insides, creating a steel stubbornness that refuses to fall. Curtley and Moses have tuned Pansy out, Chantelle’s daughters have little patience. It’s only Chantelle who still attempts to reach her sister, doing her best to convince Pansy that there are people that still love her. These gestures of affection, so uncommon in her life, are nearly destabilizing. It all leads to a devastating sequence where Pansy’s emotions are laid bare, and the rest of her family must reconcile the role they play in her pain.
If Pansy feels like an impossible character to play, I can attest that the role almost feels impossible as your watching it. Such is the brilliance of Marianne Jean-Baptiste’s performance, which is in many ways the performance of 2024. There are several insane tonal swings throughout Hard Truths, all of them hinging on her sense of timing and the rigidity of her expression. It’s remarkable to say about such a bombastic character, but there is actually still a ton of interiority. Only after you see how much Pansy will dole out do you realize the level of restraint needed for her to hold back. As Chantelle, Michele Austin is every bit Jean-Baptiste’s equal, giving the movie a much needed gentle presence while still holding her own against her ferocious sister. In their scenes together, the two actors paint a beautiful portrait of strained sisterhood: unyielding support shadowed by a lifetime of hurt.
In many ways, Hard Truths is a pretty standard Mike Leigh film. Most of his movies are domestic dramas about working class people struggling with the various humiliations of existence. Some of his movies are more political than others, but all have a heated sense of alliance with the labor class and a noticeable distaste for the pitfalls of a capitalist society. I’m of the opinion that he’s never made a bad film, but Hard Truths does feel like him near the peak of his powers. Not merely another portrait of British melancholy, but a powerful vision of a life devoid of support and love. That Cannes and Venice rejected this movie is very much in the spirit of Pansy – it was perhaps too much for them to bear. If you do choose to bear it, certain realities of the way we live – and more particularly, the way we treat people – become alarmingly apparent and we’re forced to sit with it. A hard truth, indeed.
Written and Directed by Mike Leigh