Director: Kate Beecroft
Writer: Kate Beecroft
Stars: Tabatha Zimiga, Porshia Zimiga, Scoot McNairy, Jennifer Ehle
Synopsis: After the death of her husband, Tabatha- a young, tattooed, rebellious horse trainer- wrestles with financial insecurity and unresolved grief while providing refuge for a group of wayward teenagers on her broken-down ranch in the Badlands.
In 1960, Orson Welles gave a famous interview with the BBC where he claimed the majority of his success with Citizen Kane came from ignorance. First-time director Kate Beecroft and a largely non-professional cast deliver a similar success with the modern Western East of Wall.
That’s not to say the filmmakers don’t know what they are doing. Instead, they are uninhibited by studio conventions or expected story beats. If you saddle (no pun intended) a more experienced filmmaker with this story, those expected story elements like a shoehorned romance or overly-dramatic event would have brought this film down. Instead, what Beecroft does not know, doesn’t hurt her.
Centering on a slightly fictionalized version of South Dakota horse trainer Tabatha Zimiga (playing herself), Tabatha lords over a group of wayward teenagers on her ranch. While dealing with the off-screen suicide of her partner and the mounting financial issues of her ranch, the emerging independence of her daughter, Porshia (again, playing herself) complicate matters further. Despite help from the teens and her drunken mother, Tracey (Jennifer Ehle), things look bleak for Tabatha and the ranch.
Enter Texas horse profiteer Roy Waters (a pitch-perfect Scoot McNairy), who recognizes Tabatha’s horse-training talent as well as her financial woes. While Roy offers to buy the ranch, while allowing everyone to stay on to train the horses. Accepting on an interim basis, Tabatha must come to terms with the reality of the situation, along with Porshia’s rebelliousness and her ever-expanding household.
Frankly, this isn’t about the narrative beats or plot mechanisms. This is all about setting the tone of authenticity for these people. Not only does Beecroft has a clear respect for these individuals, there isn’t an ounce of cynicism or judgement to be found in their portrayal. Each character is given the room and patience to evolve on screen, without the expectation of being anyone other than themselves. That’s the film’s greatest strength. This is not a story that needs these characters to act. The only two characters who do need to be playing a role, are the two actual actors.
And even those performances are shown as vessels rather than dramatic foil. Roy shows up as a too-good-to-be-true reversal of fortune for the family, but he doesn’t ever cross the line into evil or anything other than himself. You could easily imagine a film that feels the need to shoehorn in a romantic relationship between Roy and Tabatha, but that is not in any way what this film wants. Instead of pandering to convention, Beecroft and this community display a lifestyle, while not the most glamorous or with the most potential, is one of authentic truth and beauty. Even Tracey, who is presumably portraying a version of Tabatha’s mother, is too out there for a real person to play, so Ehle steps in and chews the scenery. Why would you let the real person be open to criticism, when a veteran like Ehle knows how to toe the line?
That’s not to say the film is perfect. The amateur actors are just that: amateurs. While they might not be the most refined in line delivery or acting conviction, when they perform on the ranch, it’s a totally different story. Porshia, specifically. rides a horse at full gallop with reckless abandon. A standout sequence includes Tabatha and Roy riding alongside Porshia as she breathtakingly speeds through a field. Austin Shelton’s understated by vibrant cinematography certainly helps the matter, while the South Dakota landscape does the rest.
Tabatha and Porshia, while being amateur actors, are not natural fits on screen in either looks or demeanor, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t exactly what the film needs them to be. Both project a strength and resilience along with a country aptitude you rarely see depicted on-screen. Other cast members also play versions of themselves, including the standout of Jesse Thorson as a semi-abandoned kid who Tabatha hopes to house. There is abundant tenderness and empathy each character has for the other that shines through in ever scene.
McNairy and Ehle, despite their veteran status, both know how to blend seamlessly into the ensemble. Ehle’s warmth and humor makes her immediately feel a part of the community, while she also has some of the film’s best monologues to deliver. McNairy is the closest thing the film has to a villain, but it’s actually not the case, either. He represents the idea of what could be considered gentrification of the ranch, but he is never anything less than transparent in his dealings. He is fair and decent, and McNairy exudes a charm that transcends any misgivings about the character.
Beecroft blends a mix of Aftersun sadness and recollection with Leave No Trace authenticity and respect. She shows the audience a modern West without taking a stand on what that actually means for the big picture. These people are trying to live their lives the best way they know how. They may never leave, but they shouldn’t feel bad about it, and neither should you. Beecroft might not have the experience, but she definitely knows what she is doing.
East of Wall is an immensely enriching experience to lovers of the modern western as well as those looking for a tender character drama. Filmmaking ignorance at it’s best.
