52 Films by Women Vol 8. 10. Sometimes I Think About Dying (Director: Rachel Lambert)
Contains spoilers.
Some films aren’t so
much entertainment as tests of character. Can you resist sending a WhatsApp
message while you are watching a slow-moving drama about crippling social
anxiety? For the young woman with the designer tote bag sitting in front of me
in the second row of Cineworld Renfrew Street, Glasgow, it was an epic failure.
The light from her phone and the messages for which she was seeking a reply
were a constant distraction. A person cannot adequately live in two moments:
the present tense of a projected film and the pregnant space below a text
conversation. Faced with such distractions, I used the palm of my hand to block
out the light. But then the phone kept moving.
But if there is one
film that deals with the inability to live in two spaces at once, it is Sometimes I Think About Dying, adapted from Kevin Armento’s play ‘Killers’
by Stefanie Abel Horowitz, Katy Wright-Mead and Armento and directed by Rachel
Lambert. Its theatrical origins have been truly expunged in an opening montage
that includes a deer walking down a flight of steps, waves crashing towards the
shore, a bridge over an expanse of water, and a long and lonely road.
Eventually, we see Fran (Daisy Ridley), an office worker with a tightly bundled
back story, standing on a beach. The sudden appearance of a person on screen is
like an intrusion. In this movie, people don’t occupy spaces; they are tenants
with short leases.
Ridley shot to fame
with Star Wars Episode VII –
The Force Awakens and two
sequels in which her character Rey discovered her Jedi lineage. However, the
saga is to Ridley what it was to Mark Hamill – an impediment to a movie career.
She has barely been on screen since 2019, her films Chaos Walking and The Marsh King’s Daughter barely registering on release. Switching to
indie films is a smart move, though I can scarcely think of a hit film set in Oregon,
where Sometimes is set.
Lambert’s film is
hyper-naturalistic. Scenes consist of
behaviour rather than a means to advance the plot. Fran arrives at her desk,
switches on her computer, and buries herself in her work, with no interaction
with her colleagues. There is banter but it doesn’t involve her. Fran is
noticeably younger than most of her colleagues, whose years correspond with
their bellies (44 years, 44-inch waist). Her isolation is in part symptomatic
of social protocol. Older guys don’t want to engage with younger female colleagues;
it leads to gossip. On Fran’s part, isolation leads to day dreaming.
Sometimes I Think
About Dying is as much fun as
studying a leaky tap, waiting for the drops to fall and then being both
disappointed and frustrated. We see Fran return home and prepare a meal – a
patty of some type - in a microwave which she then slathers with cottage
cheese. She doesn’t read or watch TV; her definition of culture is limited to
yoghurt. Yet she lives in a large house that she possibly inherited or acquired
optimistically. The only woman who speaks to her is Carol (Marcia DeBonis), a
colleague mainly visible to her from behind, as demonstrated by a brief montage,
an explosion of print dresses. Carol is retiring – planning to go on a cruise -
and offers Fran her stapler and her calculator, the latter a relic from the
1980s. Before Fran has a chance to respond, her colleagues cluster round Carol,
seagulls vying for hunks of bread in spite of the ‘no feeding’ signs. Fran
edges away.
Other aspects of
Carol’s departure cause Fran anxiety. What to write in her leaving card? How to
partake in her leaving party? In the former, Fran simply notes, ‘Happy
retirement, from Fran’. In the latter, Fran snatches a slice of retirement cake
and smuggles it back to her desk. We later see her with the cake at home,
mashing it with a fork, the sugar-coated commemoration of a working life
getting the pummelling it undoubtedly doesn’t deserve.
With departure comes
arrival, specifically, Robert (Dave Merheje), Carol’s replacement. Manager
Isobel (Megan Stalter) asks each staff member to introduce themselves with
their name and their favourite food, which would nowadays be considered an
invasion of privacy. Each declaration of preference invites commentary. ‘Spaghetti.’
‘Spaghetti with meatballs!’ ‘No, just spaghetti.’ Except for Fran, or rather
‘Fran, cottage cheese.’ When one colleague says she likes Thai food, Robert
says he likes Thai food too, the classic ‘echo to bond’ technique of social
interaction.
Robert reaches out
to Fran to order some stationery, explaining what the code is on an order form.
‘I’ve never had a job before,’ explains Robert by chat message, which could be
a joke, but I wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Don’t tell anyone’, Fran replies. ‘By the
way, I like cottage cheese too,’ adds Robert. ‘In my top five favourite
cheeses’, before inserting a cheese icon into the chat. ‘It’s not a cheese, but
a curd,’ corrects Fran, ‘I googled it.’ As far as meet cute is concerned, the
candle appears snuffed out at both ends – and I didn’t think that was possible.
However, when Robert asks Fran to catch a movie at the Columbia, Fran agrees.
‘7:00,’ Robert suggests. Fran goes home to change. Most of her attire involves
pullovers. When she arrives, he has already purchased tickets. ‘My treat.’
The film is called
‘Departure’, though we only see the last six letters of the title on a poster.
It might be the 2015 feature starring Juliet Stevenson, but we can’t be sure.
‘Did you like the movie?’ Robert asks afterwards. ‘No,’ says Fran plaintively,
‘did you?’ ‘Yes,’ Robert replies. He suggests that they go for a bite to eat. She
agrees. He offers to share a pie, something with berries and cherries.
‘Anything to drink?’ asks the waitress who knows Robert. ‘An Irish Coffee,’
replies Fran. ‘The same,’ adds Robert, echoing to bond.
Still courtesy of Vertigo Releasing (UK)
They didn’t agree
about the movie, but they did about the pie. Still, Fran remains awkward,
uncertain, and unwilling to discuss herself. On the way out, they are invited
to a party. Both of them accept.
There is a second
date. Fran visits Robert’s house, bringing a bottle of Malbec (red wine). He
shows her round. She kisses him on the lips, but then the bell goes off. Robert
doesn’t want the food to burn. Fran looks at his collection of film posters.
‘You really like movies,’ she observes. He invites her to put on a CD in a
player that takes up to four discs. The music starts. It isn’t a choice that
Robert expects. ‘You haven’t even seen the movie.’ Robert explains that he has
been married – twice. The revelation surprises Fran. She doesn’t explain
anything about herself. After the meal, Robert falls asleep in front of the
television, his head on Fran’s shoulder. He wakes up. It is time for her to go.
The Saturday night
event to which Robert and Fran are invited gives Armento’s source play its
title. Garrett (Parvesh Cheena) from work is also there. Fran presents the host
with a bottle of white wine. I have no experience of murder mystery parties,
but in the film, the host announces in broad, melodramatic terms that they have
been killed and that the guests must flee the killer. When a second guest is
‘killed’ (tapped on the head), the guests gather to deduce who is responsible,
specifically who moved around after the guests hid for cover. Two men,
including Robert are accused. ‘It couldn’t have been me,’ says Robert to Fran,
‘you saw me hide.’ ‘That was before the light went out,’ Fran replies. After
the game, they eat. Robert struggles with his crab. He wants to break the shell
with a hammer. Fran warns him against doing so. Robert is insistent. Later,
they row, Robert asking Fran too many questions. ‘No wonder you got divorced,’
she snaps.
Throughout the film,
we are shown Fran’s daydreams, lying supine in a forest or by an unlit bonfire,
ostensibly dead. There is a fantasy sequence in which Lambert cuts between a
crane lifting its load and Fran’s feet rising from the carpet, as if she were
lifted herself. At the climax of the film, Fran reveals to Robert her fantasy.
Essentially, the
drama is about a woman brought to life by a faltering romance, though Fran
requires a second catalyst in Carol herself whom she meets in a coffee shop on
the way to work. Carol is there on her own. ‘I thought you were on a cruise,’
Fran remarks. Carol’s husband had a stroke. They cannot travel. Carol explains
that she spent years saving up for a dream event, only for circumstances to
take her reward away from her. Now she has a coffee on her own, taking life a
day at a time. Marcia DeBonis’ performance is heart-breaking.
In the film’s final
scene, Fran brings donuts into the office. Her co-workers gather round the box,
looking for knives and napkins. Fran takes Robert to one side, explaining that
she has his order. In a quiet office, she tells him that she liked the movie
that they saw on their first date. ‘I don’t think about it much,’ replies
Robert. Fran then explains her dream. Saying nothing, Robert gives her a hug.
Lambert’s film drew
applause from parts of the audience (who weren’t on their phones) at the
Glasgow Film Festival screening I attended. However, its slow pace and limited
action prevent it from appealing to a wide audience. It struck me as a perfect
dating movie. If you like it and your date doesn’t, you’ve probably reached the
end of your road. It’s like a test, and in a world where dating apps yield
mixed results, that’s not a bad thing.
Reviewed at Cineworld
Renfrew Street, Glasgow, Screen One, Glasgow Film Festival, Thursday 7 March
2024, 20:30 screening.
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