Comparison is one hell of a drug. A drug with some truly vicious side effects. And this only gets worse when that comparison is between you and a friend. Especially a close friend. And yet, it feels like human nature. Even people who are successful compare themselves and come out of it the worse for wear. And this dangerous habit is well documented in the world of film. But one such documentation is leaving the Criterion Channel at the end of the month, so here we are. Sophia Takal, perhaps better known for directing the remake of Black Christmas, but this work, Always Shine, should have garnered more attention.
Always Shine is the story of two friends, who used to be close. Both are young actresses, but at very different levels of success. Beth (Caitlin Fitzgerald) is more accomplished, to the point of being considered for lead roles and mentioned in best of young Hollywood articles. Anna (Mackenzie Davis), on the other hand, is struggling to make a name for herself in any real way. The two are friends, but have drifted apart, and they are set to spend a weekend at a cabin together to reconnect.
Director Sophia Takal shows a stunning amount of promise and subtlety here, in just her second feature. She wears her influences on her sleeves here, and I mean that in a complimentary fashion. Much like Bergman’s Persona, Takal uses reflections and perspecitive to tremendous effect. It also seemed obvious to this viewer that Queen of Earth may have been on Takal’s mind, as well. It is very clear that we are aligned with Anna, as she has had to struggle and work for every crumb she has received. To hammer that point home, there is a tremendous scene with Davis and Fitzgerald taking turns playing the same role. In this scene, it becomes painfully clear that Anna is the superior actress. But because she doesn’t fit a specific type, she is not given half the opportunities that Beth has been gifted. Additionally, in the sequences which use mirrors, our focus and perspective is focused on Anna. Beth is limited to the edges of the mirrored reflection, lurking behind Anna.
This focus on Anna, punctuated by Davis’s powerful performance of wearied pain, puts us in a truly uncomfortable position. Anna’s slow unraveling leads us to feel unsure if we should really be on her side, and Always Shine never gives you that answer. Yes, Anna clearly snaps and makes, let’s say mistakes. But that doesn’t let Beth off the hook. She, by her own admission, has been a terrible friend. In the climactic moment, in which she is caught admitting to her boyfriend that she has lied to and betrayed Anna, the film switches from dread to pure horror.
But despite that switch, it is only momentary. Takal had every opportunity to dive into gore and show Beth’s murder. Instead, she does something much more interesting. Davis, who would go on to be a relatively known actor, is given the challenge of embodying the much more demure version of herself, making stylistic choices similar to Beth. She manages this without ever dipping her toe into imitation. Instead, she focused on politeness, agreeableness, and overall, speaking with much less detail. This makes her a less identifiable person, and sadly, more attractive to the people around her, especially men.
This, in many ways, ties into the opening scene. This moment, which begins with voiceover on a black screen, is simply Beth auditioning for a part in a horror movie. This is the same movie that both actresses read to each other in the scene mentioned earlier. But in this opening scene, we hear Beth essentially begging for her life. At first, due to the lack of imagery on screen, it is unclear if this is something that is actually happening. As Beth appears, it is clearly the audition setting. Importantly, as this character is begging for her safety, she is asking the other character what she can do for him to save her life, including mentions of sexual activity. It is no coincidence that the people making the decisions about her role are men. Men who, at first, are simply disembodied voices; a literal personification of the male gaze focused on both sex and violence.
Beth finds a way to make them happy, both in the scene and in her willingness to perform a nude scene. There is some tremendous work here from Fitzgerald, making it clear to us that she is wildly uncomfortable, all while comforting these men and assuaging their worries. This ability continues throughout the film in all of her interactions with men. She is quiet, pretty, and completely non-threatening. Anna, on the other hand, is loud, sometimes abrasive, and direct when she is flirting. But by the end of the film, she has not only taken over for Beth in name but seemingly subsumed her personality, as well.
In Always Shine, Sophia Takal solidified herself as a young director to watch. Although Black Christmas received less than stellar reviews, thankfully she has three projects lined up moving forward. She showed serious talent in this film, as well as an eye for talented actresses. She also tackled difficult themes, such as jealousy in female friendships without delving into stereotypes or playing to the back row. Always Shine is a powerful example of smaller film’s ability to open new doors to old themes.
In the next column, we will discuss The Postman Always Rings Twice
