The mood — reflective and melancholic — is set with the sparse piano on the soundtrack that introduces shirtless Sam, portrayed by Elliot Page, scanning the world outside his window in a concrete corner of Toronto.
Page bares his own top-surgery scars in the scene, lending a personal, physical dimension to Sam’s story, which Page co-conceived with writer-director Dominic Savage. The filmmaker doesn’t deviate much from the brooding mood, but rather just tightens and loosens the tension that accompanies all the dread.
Sam is stressed in anticipation of returning to his hometown, and family, for the first time in four years. He hasn’t seen anyone from home since he transitioned. Choosing his dad’s big birthday weekend get-together as the venue for his homecoming-out might backfire, warns Sam’s friend and housemate Emily (Sook-Yin Lee).
But, dread be damned, away he goes by train from Toronto to leafy, small-town Culver. His first awkward encounter with someone from home — Katherine (Hillary Baack), a friend from high school, now a married mom whom he spots on the train — doesn’t bode well. Still, the brief reunion does supply enough detail to signal that Kat and Sam were previously closer than just friends, and it leaves both with questions lingering heavily on their minds.
Everyone in Sam’s family has something weighing heavily on their mind, it seems, though not everyone spills, or snaps, at the same time. Savage brightens the mood somewhat for Sam’s surprising welcome home scene, where he gently reconnects with mom Miriam (Wendy Crewson), dad Jim (Peter Outerbridge), and his siblings and their partners.
The scene bears hints of the domestic warmth Sam craves, and that the film could use more of to add dimension to its shades of gray. Outside of stray bits of snark from Sam, the film forgoes humor for angst almost completely.
So, the awkwardness persists, and Page, being the expressively interior actor he is, finds within that many affecting colors to play, as tension escalates with each heart-to-heart between Sam and his respective family members. Each one asks all the same catch-up questions — about his job, his happiness, his love life — posed with varying degrees of concern or pity.
The poignant notes of long-delayed homecomings, and polite welcomes that hide old resentments, ring true. So do the uncomfortable conversations with Dad, who’s eager to talk about Sam’s past depression, older sis Kate (Janet Porter), who harbors all sorts of other doubts, and Mom, who’s supportive with intention, yet still hung up on losing her “little girl.”
The film carefully, and too patly, hits every trending concern family might have about their adult trans loved one living alone in the big city. Some in the family seem to wonder if happiness could even be possible for a person like Sam. And one family member steps far over the line, going from awkward and passive aggressive to openly hostile.
The ensuing climax feels like the movie reaching its inevitable destination, but, despite a sense of contrivance, the acting holds up. Crewson and Outerbridge are particularly good as loving parents processing a host of difficult emotions at once, and Page thoroughly embodies the fulfillment Sam has found in his life, as well as the compassion he’s seeking.
Unfortunately, neither Page nor Baack lend much tension or suspense to the will-they-or-won’t-they between Sam and Katherine. Baack certainly conveys that Katherine sees and appreciates Sam for who he is now and has always been. For someone like Sam, who says he just wants to feel seen, that’s a victory worth the train ride home.
Sheriff's deputies accused Kalaya Morton of being a "man" due to her gender expression, demonstrating how cis women can be targeted by anti-trans restroom laws.
A Black 19-year-old cisgender lesbian from Phoenix says she was humiliated after Pima County Sheriff's deputies barged into a Walmart women's restroom in Tucson that she was using last month.
Kalaya Morton, who describes herself as a "stud," and is a masculine-presenting woman, says she believes the deputies were called by a store employee who assumed she was transgender.
Speaking with The Advocate, Morton said she had entered the store restroom on February 19, along with her ex-girlfriend, who had handed her a tampon, when two male deputies stormed in, shining flashlights into the stall where she was using the toilet. They demanded that she exit the restroom.
Most A-list filmmakers in the streaming era would be glad, and lucky, to have one decent feature hit theaters in a year. So, snaps up to Steven Soderbergh, back with his second slam-bang film this season, following up January's nifty haunted house thriller Presence with the wily spy thriller Black Bag.
Soderbergh and Presence screenwriter David Koepp load up the sex, lies, and video files for this taut tale of a search for the snake hiding within a nest of secret agents. The top agent, George Woodhouse, portrayed with cool determination by Michael Fassbender, is tasked with rooting out a mole embedded in a black-ops division of British intelligence. Among his list of suspects is his own wife, Kathryn, played with a sly glint in her eye by a brashly brunette Cate Blanchett.
Like life imitating art and art imitating life, Synetic Theater currently has rather a lot in common with the subject of their production of The Immigrant, a riff on Charlie Chaplin and his tragic-comic character known as the Little Fellow.
Not only are Synetic's founders themselves immigrants, but the company is now as homeless as Chaplin's character. Add the fact that the headlines don't go a day without covering the plight of immigrants of all stripes, and it's all happening here under the bowler hat.
Of course, having no space to call home is no laughing matter -- especially since Synetic must move between area theaters, even mid-run, as in the case of The Immigrant. This must be taking its toll.
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.