The Infinite Man - a stunning, layered tale of one man's desire to make everything right

Possibly my overall favourite film of 2014’s Edinburgh Film Festival, and although I’m not sure I can put my finger on exactly why, I think it was the slightly euphoric feeling at the end of having seen a piece of incredibly clever, brilliantly realised cinema.

This is a film with only three actors and essentially one basic location – an abandoned motel near a remote beach.  And yet, it uses these simple ingredients to concoct as complex, interesting, entertaining and cinematic a movie as pretty much any other you will see.

The plot is simple and intensely intricate. At the simple level, a man (Dean) takes his girlfriend (Lana) to a motel on their anniversary to recreate their previous year’s anniversary which had taken place at the same location.  But the motel has closed in the previous year and is now abandoned. Things go from bad to worse when Lana’s ex (Terry) turns up and eventual she leaves with him.  Dean stays on in despair at the motel and over the course of a year builds a time-machine. On their next anniversary, he travels back a year to make things right but things don’t go as planned.

One of the keys to the success of the film is how funny it is, with writer-director Hugh Sullivan wringing exactly the optimum amount of laughter to entertain his audience without making the story trivialised or an afterthought.  There is some serious concern about Dean’s mental state, which is neither glossed-over nor shoehorned in to make a point – it instead provides context and background to both plot and character. 

I still have no idea how Sullivan kept track of the plot and characters at each point.  I like to think he had one of those World War II bunker room maps with lots of little Deans but he probably did it by being a lot smarter than me! But although the film dazzles you with its cleverness and it is causes a bit of a headspin by the end, I never felt lost, which is again tribute to both the intelligence of the plotting, the confident storytelling and fantastic performances.

The acting is superb. Josh McConville as Dean manages to make each Dean feel slightly different but very much part of the same person.  He brings through the obsessiveness and need to control everything that drives the plot but makes sure Dean a sympathetic and multi-dimensional character alongside this. His need to make everything right is the thing that makes everything wrong but this isn't made into a quirk but a sign of a genuinely well-intentioned person who is just slightly off from the world. Alex Dimitriades as Terry is fun support. And Hannah Marshall as Lana reminds you just how badly written a lot of Hollywood love interests are.  In a big blockbuster she probably would have had one character “setting” to react with -  probably impatience or being insufficiently supportive, before finally being won over with some empty romantic gesture or because she has been saved, fulfilling little role but as a plot lever.  But in The Infinite Man, Lana realistically reacts to where she is in the plot and how much she can manage of Dean and their unusual relationship trajectory. She genuinely cares about Dean and is mostly patient with him, but at the same time sometimes has to bring a reality check when his obsessiveness starts to take over and damage their lives. She wants him to get past this, but is also sometimes confused and hurt by the way that Dean (or the Deans) treats her and the way he expects her to just go along with whatever he is now convinced will finally solve everything.  Her reactions and character are nearly as crucial to the plot and the way events play out as Dean’s are.

The direction is snappy and dynamic, essential with such an intricate plot and the use of more-or-less only one location is very effective, particularly with the plot’s references to getting stuck in a close loop – the use of location emphasises the narrowness of Dean’s focus – he only leaves the motel complex briefly if he is trying to break from the pattern he has caught himself in.

Overall, a simply brilliant film that I want to see again and that I hope a wider audience gets to see as well.  It is entertaining, rewarding, engrossing and dazzling in the best possible way. 

Uncertain Terms - an absorbing drama of uncertain feelings in a makeshift family

Uncertain Terms is a wonderfully depicted and intimate film that brings out some real human drama and humour from an unusual setting.  That setting is a home and part-time school for five pregnant teenagers, and is run by Carla, a woman who when a pregnant teenager herself some 30 or so years ago had found herself in a similar but much harsher institution.  Carla is played by director Nathan Silver’s own mother, and the idea for the film came from her own experiences.

It makes for the perfect setting for a delicately poised drama.  Five semi-isolated teenagers would in most cases lead to an atmosphere of simmering emotion just ready to bubble over;  five pregnant teenagers heightens that even further.  Into this mixture steps Carla’s 30-ish year old nephew Robbie, attractive and enigmatic, helping out his aunt and finding his own refuge from a disintegrating marriage.  The girls are drawn to him, he is wary in return and then intrigued, particularly by Nina, who is struggling with both the reality of imminent motherhood and a feckless teenage boyfriend who won’t step up and get a job.  A relationship between a 30 year old man and an 18 year old girl could be unfortunate territory – a cliché used far too often as well as the fact that Nina is in a very emotionally vulnerable situation – but the film just about avoids this through two means. Firstly, with Nina, the film doesn’t just substitute the attributes “young and pretty” for a character but gives her an actual personality and something to do other than wait for the central protagonist to fall for her.  She has her own issues to deal with, much wider than Robbie or boyfriend Chase, her own approach to the relationship, her own agency within it.  Secondly, Robbie’s choices, although those of the protagonist, are not presented as uniformly sympathetic. Instead, they demonstrate his emotional immaturity, particularly within relationships.  In fact he is scarcely more mature than Chase in some ways, just a little more in control of his temper.

This set up allows the film to contrast (or perhaps show there is not much difference here) between teenage relationships and supposedly more grown-up ones.  There are similar frustrations, anger, jealousy and disappointments – the one difference being alcohol in Robbie’s exchanges with his ex-wife. Robbie and Nina are well drawn characters, although they do retain some mystery both from each other and the audience.

Carla threatens to steal the show with her no-nonsense compassion that frequently overspills into interference but is always well-meant and sometimes brings comic relief.  She really has built a haven and new home and family for these girls, something emphasised by the beautiful cinematography.  The film looks exquisite – the outdoor scenes in particular are gorgeously lit – and however tense or dramatic things get, the sunbathed, luminous feel to the film really emphasises the house as a safe place, set apart from the rest of the world.

Although there are outbursts of emotion through the film, it is delicately and beautifully plotted, like a coil being wound up, sometimes slackening with an outburst but getting tighter and tighter and then completely snapping as the drama comes to a head.  Overall, this is a beautiful and absorbing piece of film making, drawing you into a unique and special world and squeezing the exact right amount of drama from it while illuminating some very real and honest characters and relationships.

A Practical Guide to a Spectacular Suicide - a low-budget comedy treat that will make you love life

So the Film Festival isn't just here to take the audience on a journey around the world. It also gives a showcase to some fantastic storytelling from here in Scotland which might not get seen by as many people as it deserves. Oh and it should be very clearly stated, A Practical Guide to a Spectacular Suicide deserves to be seen by a lot more people than will have made it to the screenings here. Hopefully the Festival can be a stepping stone towards that. I don’t know what the budget was, but this was probably the lowest budget film I've seen at the Festival since The Puffy Chair a few years back, and it was just as enjoyable experience.

From what I could tell from the Q&A, the director, lead actor and their co-writer are not full time professionals, instead fitting this round full-time jobs and persuading professional involvement on the basis of their rather wonderful script and managed to pull everyone together for 12 days to shoot it.  Having had the film picked up for a couple of other festivals, they took a punt on risking some money on the submission fee for EIFF on a “what’s the worst that can happen” whim.  The film makers would modestly give you the impression they somehow beat the odds – as if they were given the place at random.  I suspect it was more that the programmers enjoyed the film as thoroughly as the audience at my screening.  I've included all this as background for two reasons.  Firstly to show that the understandable minor flaws with the film are more than dwarfed by the achievement of making such an enjoyable film on such a low budget and without the time and resources of full time filmmakers. And also because the film makers all look about 20 years old and I’m in awe.

Let’s get the minor flaws out of the way so that I can get on with singing the praises of how funny this was. The tight shooting time probably mean that not every scene could have as many takes as the director would have wanted and there was the odd line that didn't quite land or quite have the power it should have.  However, although I remembered that happening a few times, I couldn't remember which scenes or lines this was as there was usually a cracker a few seconds later, so I really feel like I’m quibbling.  And while lead actor Graeme McGeagh, playing protagonist Tom Collins, is not likely to be challenging Daniel Day-Lewis for any awards, he makes up for some occasionally self-conscious acting with phenomenal comic timing and a lot of screen charm.  The surrounding cast around him are strong enough anyway that it didn't detract from my enjoyment or appreciation of the film.  And in this type of film, comic timing is always going to be what makes or breaks the feel of the film and he nailed it in this respect. For some people, these flaws may be too distracting, but I really do think it was a funny and life-affirming enough film to more than overcome then.

Huge praise has to go the script.   It is consistently witty but capable of throwing in scenes with a real emotional punch to give the film depth as well and make sure it doesn't have feel trivial, important given the subject matter.  It’s not always that common for the comedy in a film or TV show to consistently come from the spot-on banter between the characters – you know, actual funny things that actual funny people would say to each other- but for the non-set piece scenes, that’s where the humour comes from and they hit it spot on. It feels natural and not forced.  Interspersed between these scenes are more fantastical and equally funny ones – the Practical Guide of the title.  Particularly towards the beginning, it reminded me of Channel 4’s “A Young Person’s Guide to Becoming a Rock Star” (which can only be a good thing if you’re me).  The low budget means there is a sort of “throw the kitchen sink” in approach to storytelling, an inventive way of keeping it fresh, meaning we have direct to camera web posts, a live stop-motion fantasy scene, theatrical re-enactment and animation.  All are handled with a sense of imaginative fun.

The witty script is complemented by a set of well-drawn characters.  I’m not sure Dr Watson is going to be anyone’s idea of a model psychologist, but Patrick O’Brien is a riot in the part and the character is a perfect comedy antagonist for Tom. Annabel Logan doesn't make quirky in a fault (another performer might have dragged Eve dangerously into Manic Pixie Dream Girl territory), but finds someone who takes the world in her own terms, determined to have fun with it, but also bringing back both characters to reality when needed. And Ray Crofter brings a wry world-weariness along with being the emotional anchor for the film. 

The film deals with a topic that can’t be laughed at in of itself, another reason why it is important that they made sure the comedy comes from the banter or occasional absurdity of Tom and his quest rather than making “suicide jokes” as such, or too much from comedy situations. This film is one with a real love for life and a belief that everyone has something to live for but also one that finds a way to acknowledge the reality of what suicide would actually mean. It certainly doesn't do what it says on the tin. By ensuring that their lead character is such an engaging and likable person, and a character they clearly have a lot of affection for, they can get away with going places that a more serious film or one with a more standoffish persona would not feel comfortable.  They also have the skill to bring in a few real emotional punches in between – this is not a comedy that forgets the real world and real consequences.

All in all, this was a lovely low-budget treat, a film made by people who clearly have a passion for film making, comedy and storytelling without cynicism or self-indulgence.  Hopefully, in writing at least, this is the start of a long line of success for the people behind it. 

Life May Be - a fascinating film conversation

This interesting film conversation was not quite what I expected, but was nonetheless thought –provoking and rewarding.  The film had the feeling of a truly spontaneous dialogue between Mania Akbari and Mark Cousins (something that was confirmed in the post-film Q&A) rather than the more structured, collaborative essay that I was expecting.  However, the film had an authenticity and meditativeness that it might not have had if it had been a more formal collaboration.

The film therefore seems to have been made the way it is presented. It opens with a letter from Cousins to Akbari, a wonderful, impassioned, rambling look at Akbari’s previous films. Akbari responds with the tale of her exile from Iran and journey to London via Dubai and Malmo, framing it with the contrasting views in each of those cities of freedom, of women, of art and culture and much more.  Cousins runs with some of the themes raised in Akbari’s reply – such as depiction of bodies and nudity in art, film and society; and memorialisation of conflict. Akbari responds and expands on Cousins’ trains of thought. Finally Cousins leaves us with a sort of visual poem as a coda.

One of the interesting ways about how the film is presented is the contrasts between the two film makers’ approach. Cousins has an enthusiastically magpie-like approach, grabbing everything around him and everything pouring out his mind and meshing it together to try draw out universal themes.  Akbari takes these themes and explores them in a much more personal way.  Although she also references and integrates many cultural touchstones, she illuminates them through her own extraordinary life experiences.

What is particularly appealing about the film is although it is very much defined by the filmmakers’ own styles, and really does feel like a genuine conversation between the two, it is not a closed conversation or an exclusive one.  Both raise their issues and opinions in a way that invites the audience to reflect themselves on the themes explored by the film and I think it would be pretty hard to watch the film and not wonder what your own film letter response would be.

Although I was a little disappointed that the conversation wasn't as much about film and film making as I was hoping, Life May Be felt like the start of a discourse, not the complete conversation and I would be delighted to see these two continue their dialogue on whatever topic they like. Perhaps this could be the first of several of conversations of this type.  The two film makers clearly have a lot of fascinating this to say in a fantastically engaging way, - proved by their previous film work – and they also seem to draw a great deal of perspective thinking from the other.  It was nice to eavesdrop for a little while.

Displaced Perssons - a wonderful story of family and finding somewhere to call home

This heart-warming document tells the story of the Persson family – Pelle, who moved to Pakistan 40 years ago, his wife Shahmin and their daughters, Zahra and Mia, who were both born and raised in Pakistan, looking at their life as they move to Pelle’s native Sweden.  Pelle hopes to give his daughters more freedom and safety, and Sweden has been built up almost as a paradise in the daughters’ eyes.  But although Pelle’s happy-go-lucky attitude has made him popular in Lahore, it is perhaps not quite suited to the bureaucracy that he is confronted with on trying to re-establish his life (and official ‘existence’) in Sweden.

The Persson family are ideal subjects for a documentary. It is impossible not to warm to them and become emotionally involved in their story.  The affection between the family members is palpable and gives you hope they can overcome the struggles in their path – from financial insecurity and homesickness to doubt and separation.   These central characters are backed up by a highly entertaining supporting cast, particularly Pelle’s siblings who have not seen him for decades but (at first tentatively) embrace the new family in the caravan in the back garden.  Although the film makers present them a little too often as demonstrating some naivety, they on the whole manage to get the balance towards presenting the family in a good-natured and non-patronising ways – though this may have been through sheer force of personality on the part of the family.   On the most part, the cultural changes between Pakistan and Sweden are brought out well by letting us see it through the eyes of the family rather than trying to hammer it home artificially.  These are funny, warm, and interesting people who drive the narrative and refuse to be downcast by any bump in the road.

The film is also very thought provoking on what being home means.  Each member of the family has their own interpretation and their own way of adapting to new circumstances and building a new sense of home.  For the most part, it tries to see the world as the Perssons do, each place, each home, has its good and bad aspects and as long as you support the people around you, and are supported by them in turn, you can find the best in it.  This is certainly a film that believes in the goodness of people.

If there was one let down for me, it was the style of the voice-over narration.  Although it didn't lessen my enjoyment of the film – the Persson family shone too much for this – it did give me a sense of an occasionally slightly judgemental tone from the film makers towards Pakistan.  Presumably aiming for a wry, novelistic tone, the narration sometimes moved beyond the merely expositional to offering up an interpretation of the next scene or segment rather than letting the viewer decide for oneself.   As alluded to above, occasionally the family’s naivety was hammered home a bit too much either by the edit, or by the voice-over. The effect of feeling like I was being asked to filter the story through a certain viewpoint made me aware that we had no perspective on why Zahra and Aun end up staying in Pakistan longer than expected. We are already aware of the often horrifying attitude towards women in Pakistan – in the film we hear about the threats received from the girls’ maternal uncle which has accelerated the decision to move back to Sweden. The delay in their return to Sweden seemed to be told in a way to force us to assume that it is caused by similar misogynistic reasons.  This may well be the case, but then why not show us this rather than tarnish everyone, including Aun, with the same brush.  It is almost as if the film makers didn't quite trust enough how strongly the film has something to say without them adding a particular perspective – but the characters and story are so strong that they didn't need to.

However, this was just one minor part of a very funny and engaging film with a lot of heart.  The film makers have found a terrific story and mostly told it in an entertaining and sympathetic way which seemed to have the whole audience entranced.  It makes their rather unusual story feel very universal and draws out the story in a way to ensure it has a deep emotional resonance. The Persson family are delightful people to spend time with and I got really caught up in their happiness. In keeping with the storybook narration, here’s hoping this is a family that lives as close to a happy-ever-after as is possible. 

40 Days of Silence - under pressure from the legacy of generations gone before

I've said before that one of my favourite aspects of the film festival is a sense of a journey around the world and an opportunity to be introduced to communities and lives that I might never otherwise get a glimpse of.  I can’t think of another film off the top of my head that I've seen set in former Soviet central Asia (the beginning of Borat doesn't count!) and rural Tajikistan is certainly a place I know absolutely nothing about.  It is the setting for the magical-realist 40 Days of Silence, the story of a teenager, Bibicha, as she embarks on a 40 day vow of silence, following a family tradition.  Through this central story, are weaved memories and vignettes of lives of previous generations of women in her family

The director skilfully brings out a sense of place and community – both isolated from and connected to the wider world – and some very strongly realised characters.  Within this though, there is an over tendency towards long shots of mountains, fields, empty streets – perhaps more than is needed for the sense of place that the director is trying to create.  The cinematography is evocative enough that taking us away from the story is so frequently is a distraction.  The peacefulness is an interesting contract to Bibicha’s mental turbulence, but it feels a little overused and slightly disengaged me from the story at times.

The scenes showing Bibicha’s mental disintegration under the pressure of her vow that are particularly memorable and skilfully achieved and form the core of the film.  They in particular (along with the family life around her) are what really engrossed me in the film.  Firstly credit must go to both director and actor for bringing to life so vividly a character who doesn't speak nor dominate the screen time but still dominates the film. Despite the harrowing effect on her mental state, the vow and the choice to make it are depicted as coming from a position of strength, of willing accepted duty, of a way of connection to her family’s past, rather than from submission or oppression. Bibicha is a fascinating character, coming across as determined, stoic and strong but also as very much a teenage girl, whether being mischievous or stubborn. 

The director uses horror tropes in a really interesting and effective way to evoke the experience of the effect of the vow, from the quietly creepy ghostly visitation at the beginning to the full-on panic that Bibicha has in the woods later on.  The soundscapes and score that accompany these are incredibly evocative, utterly pulling the viewer in to the scene.  The subplots are well and handled and acted and complement Bibicha’s story well.  I was also struck with how the director combined the extraordinary and the everyday to set the scene for these stories.  Overlaid on this background, the way the director brought together the different women’s stories was also very well achieved – all the stories, from the radio tale listened to by Bibicha’s grandmother to her aunt’s struggle for acceptance of her choices felt unique and distinct but also complementary, painting an interesting tableau of women’s experiences across the generations.

All in all, the film was a very interesting and absorbing journey into the unknown and a fascinating portrait of one family.

Anatomy of a Paper Clip - mysterious, dead-pan goings on in Japan

Probably the most deadpan comedy I have ever seen, Anatomy of a Paperclip is a funny but strange affair. The film uses its surreal setting and scenes to take the side of the underdog against the wider forces at work in the world - disinterested corporations and opportunistic criminality among them. There may well have been a lot more social satire and metaphor involved, but not being very familiar with Japan, I had to take it at face value.  And it was still very enjoyable at this level.

Our central protagonist, Kogure, works in the strangest repetitive job that I can remember on film since Mary's dad in Mary and Max worked adding the strings to tea bags.  He works at a paper clip factory, well he sits at a bench in a dusty work room, hand making paper clips with an utterly vile and inappropriate boss and three largely silent colleagues.  Kogure lives in a tiny one room flat and wars a neck brace. The reason for this last aspect is strongly hinted at but never confirmed.  The clothes worn by the characters look vaguely contemporary but could also probably come from the past 40 years or the next 40. The low-tech ‘factory’, the lack of other technology bar one vintage radio and the slightly dystopian atmosphere in the background made me uncertain of the date and added a disquieting feel behind the strangeness.

Dialogue is frequently sparse and the actors’ movement deliberately start and stilted, giving it almost the feeling of a silent film.  The comedy comes from the utterly absurd situations Kogure finds himself and the compliant passivity or baffled politeness that he answers these situations with – even undressing every time he meets a pair of local wannabe gangsters who demanded his clothes the first time he see them.  The comic timing in both the acting, pacing and editing is spot on. The director uses repetition (or almost repeated scenes with a twist) to underscore the comedy effectively.  My only qualm with the humour was that a couple of situations were unpleasant rather than humorous and presenting them as comedy was a little alienating.

As the story becomes odder and more disconcerting, it feels like we are building to an ending that will explain one of the most unexplained and surreal sub-plots – one literally sitting in the corner of the room.  However, this is slightly rushed over.  On reflection if the film is viewed through the prism of a sort of character journey for Kogure, then the narrative does come to some sort of conclusion or finish point. However, it felt a bit fudged and perhaps left me getting less out of the film than I would have liked.  Still, for the overall absurdity and strange humour, it was an effective, enjoyable and very funny film.

Final Whistle - how far should you get involved when you might be able to help?

Niki Karimi's engrossing film examines many issues, notably including mistreatment of women in Iran and the responsibility of those with more influence, particularly artists, to use that influence to help those who are marginilised.  She cleverly examines them together in a way that means one issue sheds a deeper light on the other.

The plot follows a documentary film-maker, Sahar who becomes involved in the life of an extra, Maliheh, working on a TV drama made by her husband.  Maliheh is trying desperately to get together enough money to save her mother who is waiting execution for killing her husband in self defence and to protect Maliheh. Karimi doesn't overdramatise or sensationalise the plot but uses it as a vehicle to examine several interesting moral dilemmas, which have no easy answers.  In the Q&A after the film, Karimi revealed that she made the film as a self-reflexive exercise to examine her responsibilities as a film maker rather than to particularly highlight issues. The success of this approach is that it brings to light injustice without being preachy or self-righteous. Sahar will go to pretty far to do what she can for Maliheh, her husband is much less keen. But the film does not judge her husband too harshly - would most of us give up the deposit on a home we had worked years for to help out someone we didn't know very well, however much we believed that it was right?

Another interesting take on these topics that Karimi brings out in the film is both the limits that artistic influence can have and the instinct towards a one-sided crusade.  In one particularly memorable scene, Sahar makes a short documentary and takes it to Maliheh's step-father's family, hoping to persuade them to drop the charges.  However, the film recognises the distress of that family - the step-father may have been an awful person, but his death has left his family bereft and Sahar's determination to help Maliheh just causes them even more pain.  And her failure to convince them shows that however lofty her intentions, for some situations, artistic endeavour cannot always solve hard, real world problems. The film is not saying it is not worth trying to use your talents towards confronting injustice, but it does it recognising there will always be limits.

Although a fiction film, Karimi has used hand-held cameras to give her film a documentary film - a clever way to add to the ideas discussed in the film.  It is also a very effective way of setting the emotional mood of the film.  When Sahar feels determined, or under pressure, or in other ways energetic, the camera is always moving, giving the film a really urgency and energy.  But when she feels defeated or deflated, it is much more still; you can almost feel her hope draining away through the camera work alone.

The story and the way it is told are engrossing through out - initially there are occasional bursts of black humour, as the story progresses and becomes more tragic, it becomes more intensely dramatic.  Karimi's performance is brilliant and unshowy and the film left me slightly shellshocked at the end - the dramatic tension is ramped up and we are left with an ambiguous ending as to whether Sahar has succeeded or not - my heart was in my mouth as it cut to the credits.

Something, Anything - no easy answers, much to dwell on, just like life.

Something, Anything was a really interesting start to my 2014 EIFF experience, a fascinating study of character and role, which is both involving and confident enough to leave much to the viewers own perspective and judgement.

The central protagonist Peggy (later Margaret) is, for a lead character, unusually voiceless, but still a fully realised and believable character.  She opens the film seemingly passively accepting the role in life laid out for, just like everyone around her - financially successfully career, married, first baby on the way.  Then two things shake her belief in this life for her. The first is a personal tragedy, when she suffers a miscarriage, the second is a sympathy card from one high school acquaintance who has shaken off the 'expected' route through life and role. These two events shake Peggy's acceptance of her role in life and she sheds various elements propping it up one by one while she tries to work out what exactly it is she wants.

Peggy's journey, just like a real person's isn't predictable or formulated to fit a preconceived arc for the film, and the film examines her development in several interesting and fresh ways.  One thing that particularly struck me is for much of the film, we don't really hear from Peggy - people speak over her or ignore what she is trying to impart, she is unsure what to say, or the scene is edited before she is able to speak.  She can only express her innermost thoughts by writing them in a notebook, and even this is then written on the screen rather than voiced by the actress.  It is a testament both to the writing and the acting that the little that Peggy does say, and how she comes across silently, are strong enough to make this a character that the viewer can invest in and care about. Her reticence is a symptom of her uncertainty and a powerful symbol of how she has been put into a box that only allows her limited ways to express herself.

Another element explored by the film in a thoughtful way is how people filter another person's tragedy through their own perspective in a way that can alienate or take it away from the person who suffered it.  The story is driven by Peggy's reaction to her miscarriage and the film-makers' empathy is shown by the way that she is allowed as a character to deal with this in her own way and on her own terms.  But for the other characters, many are almost resentful or offended that she doesn't deal with it in a way that fits their idea or perspective of how it should be done.  Her husband makes vague attempts at support and sympathy but is annoyed that this doesn't instantly snap her out of her sadness.  Her friends want to paper over it with shopping and nights out to make her feel better, probably kindly meant, but the last thing Peggy needs. They then are annoyed that she lets it impact on her marriage in a way they don't see is fitting.  It is another aspect to Peggy's voicelessness and of the roles she is expected to fulfill - she is not allowed to express or experience the grief in a way that makes sense for her.

A driving force through the film, one of the things that is most successful, is that it presents Peggy's story in a way that lets her experience shape the story and through that develops the character, but also does it in a non-judgemental, reasonably ambiguous way.  It allows the audience to develop a relationship with Peggy and the changes in her character (which always feel believable) on their own terms, where many film-makers might have scripted it in a way to tell us how we should feel about Peggy's choices.  And even though, because we are focused on Peggy, the people around her are a little less sympathetic, the film does not feel judgemental towards them either.  The film does critique materialism and a certain conforming type of society, without being scornful to people who exist in a world where sometimes the more comforting solution is just to buy something to fill the gap your feeling or to go along with what's expected of you.  It also doesn't suggest that by just casting off the things that are restricting Peggy that she will somehow find some magical answer to life or "find herself", it shies away from these cliches. This is a film that knows there are no easy answers or solutions to hard situations and also understands that people aren't a series of tropes and characters aren't just created by what they say, but that people are complicated and characters should have nuance and ambiguity to be real.

So it should come as no surprise that I found this a really memorable, fulfilling,, thought-provoking and engaging film. It wouldn't be to everyone's taste, and many people may not quite have enough patience for Peggy especially when some of her choices aren't the one the viewer has chosen as the "right" one. But in letting this character make her own mistakes and choices, on her own terms, and for her own reasons, the film does what her friends and family are less keen to do - choose her own role and find her voice.