Director: Melanie Oates
Writer: Melanie Oates
Stars: Michaela Kurimsky, Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers, Peter Mooney
Synopsis: Follows an unassuming Newfoundland woman whose online persona strains her community relationships after its exposure.
Those who know me know that I’m a city dweller for life. Born and raised in New York, I feel deeply out of place if I’m not near bustling streets, an immense amount of noise pollution, and man-made monoliths that stretch into the sky. But I’m an absolute sucker for coastal towns. There’s a beauty and charm to them that is undeniable. And as a fan of cinema, it certainly helps that coastal imagery is about as photogenic as nature can get. But there are also much deeper reasons to love such locales. Practically all homegrown, there’s a sense of real reliance on those around you. The whole town prospers when the individuals within help one another thrive. But along comes the Canadian film Sweet Angel Baby, celebrating its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival to disprove that very notion myself, and likely others, share. In fact, Melanie Oates’ film questions if that sense of community is even possible in such a judgmental, hyper-connected society like the present we currently find ourselves in.
The film opens on that exact delight that draws people into coastal towns. Crashing waves on natural rock structures, beautiful greenery, some of the freshest food one could hope for. And of course, it’s a town where everybody knows everybody. In one establishing shot, Oates basically captures the entire town in a single frame. While that may seem great to somebody just passing through, it would obviously be a nightmare for anybody hiding parts of themself from the world. And that’s the exact predicament Eliza (Michaela Kurimsky) finds herself in. Between her closeted sexuality and secret Instagram account where she posts nude photos, Eliza does all she can to keep out of the limelight for the wrong reasons. And the way Sweet Angel Baby handles this element of Eliza’s character is one of its many strengths.
In a lesser film, it feels like the easy-way-out for inciting drama would be to make Eliza a social outcast within the town. Somebody who keeps to herself; somebody recognizable yet never fully known. Oates fully leans into the complete opposite. Eliza is a beloved member of the community. She leads the charge in setting up a fundraiser for the local church. She seems to show up to work quite early for general upkeep, taking pride in the moments that others may never notice are getting done. She even brings freshly chopped wood to her neighbor daily. It seems that despite being so forward-facing, Eliza enjoys her private moments just as much. And don’t we all? More importantly, don’t we all deserve to have something we keep solely for ourselves? Kurimsky gives an undeniably vulnerable, internal performance, but the way she balances that with her more outgoing one is where the magic of the film lies. It’s the type of performance that draws an audience in plenty, but leaves just enough distance to remind us that we only know as much as the character and the filmmaker allow us to. And here enters Sean (Peter Mooney), an enigma to throw a wrench into the mix of all Eliza has done to protect herself.
Just because everybody knows everybody in town doesn’t necessarily mean they all speak to one another. Sean seems to be all that on the surface. But Eliza and her secret-partner Toni (Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers) do all they can to steer clear of him. A quick greeting or momentary small talk is all we really see. We are firmly team Eliza in this film, and Oates makes it abundantly clear why Sean should be avoided. Mooney plays him as a guy who doesn’t really feel too much shame in his thoughts and actions. He’s revealed to be the worst type of sleazeball: one that doesn’t really register they are one. His actions speak volumes, and there are moments both subtle and blatant that make you want to groan in annoyance and disgust in that particular way cinematic bozos make you feel. The blatant moments are the ones that may make an audience revolt at the sheer thought of Sean, and though it’s obviously predictable, Oates makes the development feel potent. It displays a strong grip over the script and a confidence that your actors can effectively translate a range of emotions the audience knew would be coming.
By its final act, Sweet Angel Baby expands far beyond a personal, intimate story. It begins to morph into an indictment on the hypocrisies of society and towns that look like this one. There are double standards aplenty to be found in the reactions of varied townsfolk. Sean escapes any criticism by way of simply being a man, while Eliza is picking up the pieces of the life she sees slowly slipping away. It’s as if the people she has grown up around her entire life can no longer recognize her. And it’s a concept that’s both saddening and frightening. How can people be so set in their beliefs they can turn on a person they proclaimed to love? How could anybody ever justify such behavior, especially when they aren’t harmed in any way whatsoever? With Sweet Angel Baby, Oates reminds her viewer of the unfortunate truth that some people are, ultimately, set in their ways for life. And with that revelation comes a choice that needs to be made. What is better? To be shunned and knowingly spoken about behind your back? Or to embrace any and all vitriol, regardless of how hypocritical on their part it might be? There’s much to be angered by in this film, understandably when reactions start flying across town regarding Eliza’s life. But Oates also provides such sweet moments of those who will still defend her. And those silently touching ways families stick by one another are powerful. There’s certainly a juxtaposition even amongst those who are mostly unbothered by her life, but those moments are essential for the finale of Sweet Angel Baby. For all the sadness and anger this film has to throw on societies and the people within them that have deemed certain ways of living “improper”, Oates chooses to focus on a moment of triumph. And it’s wholly welcomed and appreciated.
Sweet Angel Baby celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.
