Saint Frances (Review)
Saint Frances is the Patron Saint of Millennials.
The older I get the more I start to realize that no one really has everything all figured out, and that life is an absolute mess even at the best of times. Saint Frances captures that reality for my generation (millennials) as we get to that point where we should start settling down and popping out a few rugrats. The truth is that we live in uncertain times, and that is really messing with our heads. Saint Frances examines the complexities of life as a woman tries to come to terms with not being where she thought she should be in her early thirties, trying to find a balance between feminism and vulnerability, and keep an eye on a rambunctious 6-year-old. This film has a lot of balls in the air but never drops a single one.
Bridget (Kelly O’Sullivan) is a walking disaster. Already in her early thirties, she’s embarrassed to be working as a server and still trying to figure out how to be a grown-up while everyone else seems to have their lives together. An opportunity arises when she’s hired to be a nanny for six-year-old Frances (Ramona Edith Williams). The problem is that Bridget doesn’t really like kids and has no idea how to take care of them. Like most children, Frances can smell fear and makes things as difficult as possible for her new care-giver. Fortunately, the two discover that there’s a lot that they can learn from each other and manage to form a truce just in time for Bridget to finally start figuring out how to live her life or at least realize that there’s nothing wrong with not having her life figured out.
Saint Frances is an adorable and heartwarming film that hits a sweet spot between humor and insightfulness. Kelly O’Sullivan penned the script and teamed with director Alex Thompson for this profoundly intimate look at being a modern woman. One of the core themes of Saint Frances is the difficulty of relationships, or rather, how difficult we make them these days. Bridget’s uncertainty causes her to keep the guy she’s seeing, Jace (Max Lipchitz), at arm’s length, even when he tries to be as supportive as possible when she chooses to have an abortion. Despite Jace wanting to be there for her, communicate his feelings, and listen to hers, Bridget can’t bring herself to show that level of vulnerability. The same can be said for Frances’ parents Maya (Charin Alvarez) and Alice (Lily Mojekwu) who are struggling in their marriage after the birth of their newborn son. Both are trying to keep it together for the sake of the other, and that leads to them suffering in silence as things fall apart in their relationship. O’Sullivan hit the nail on the head on the biggest danger facing modern relationships but does so without ever seeming preachy.
I fell in love with every character in the film (or at least the ones I was supposed to like). That’s no small task, considering how much I hate kids. However, I’ll be the first to admit that Ramona Edith Williams is as adorable as she is hilarious. She shares a wonderful chemistry with O’Sullivan even as their characters are driving each other crazy. This chemistry isn’t exclusive to them though, as Lipchitz’s character comes across as a bit of a loser, but also seems like exactly the kind of guy who is exactly what Bridget really needs. Still, O’Sullivan’s Bridget can’t bring herself to commit and constantly uses sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism. By far and away though, the most powerful performance comes from Alvarez and Mojekwu who reveal that, while their characters look like they have their lives together with their marriage, family, and success, they’re really holding on by a thread. Seeing the struggles that drive these strong women to tears is almost reassuring for Bridget, and the two actresses hit hard with their portrayals of these characters.
More than anything, Saint Frances is a feminist film (feminism isn’t a bad word, people). It looks that the natural things that women experience are still considered taboo. Bridget tries to cope with her period and abnormal bleeding after her abortion, which is embarrassing for her when it shouldn’t be. This point is driven home early on when she realizes that her period started after having sex with Jace. She’s flustered, but Jace tries to reassure her that it’s not a big deal at all and there’s no need for that. The same goes for breastfeeding when another woman shames Maya for nursing her newborn son at a park. The biggest battle for Maya though is postpartum depression. Maya hides this the best she can even though she’s suffering because she doesn’t want to be a bad mother. For me, the most interesting part was realizing that Bridget’s attempt to be a strong, independent woman leads to her adopting traits that would more often be considered aspects of toxic masculinity. Clearly, there’s a lot being said in Saint Frances, but Kelly O’Sullivan says with elegance and a keen sense of humor.
Saint Frances is an inspiring and moving film that hit me a lot harder than I thought it would. Its story is brilliantly told and, even though I’m not a woman, I found it to be touching in how authentic it was. To be honest, it kinda sucks being a millennial, but after seeing this movie I feel a bit better about being a complete disaster. If Bridget can learn to let go and embrace how messy and uncertain life is, then I can do the same. 2020 has been a weird year for movies, but I have to say that Saint Frances is one of my absolute favorites so far.
