MONICA -Review by Nadine Whitney
Monica is a film that exists in what is left unspoken. Monica (Trace Lysette) rarely says what she feels, in fact, it takes a lot of courage for her to tell her truth to anyone, including her ex-boyfriend Jimmy who abandoned her, using the “We need space” line to avoid confrontation. Abandonment has been in staple in Monica’s life since the day her mother drove her to a bus stop when she was sixteen and told her, “I cannot be your mother anymore.”
Years later Monica. living in the city, appears weary and discontent. A call comes from her sister-in-law, Laura (Emily Browning) informing her that her mother, Eugenia/Genie (Patricia Clarkson) is gravely ill and perhaps Monica would like to come home and be with her before she dies. Although no one in the family has contacted her for years, she decides that she will drive for two days to visit the family — although she has no idea of how they will respond to her post gender-transition.
Andrea Pallaoro and co-screenwriter Orlando Tirado slowly reveal Monica’s history. At first it seems Eugenia doesn’t recognise her, and her brother Paul (Joshua Close) straight out says that he wouldn’t have known it was her. One questions why Monica would stay with a family that doesn’t know her until Pallaoro discloses that what is actually happening is that is Monica getting to know herself.
As much as Monica is emotionally exhausted, so too are Laura and Paul. With the help of caregiver Lettie (Adriana Barraza) they have been providing full-time care for Genie who refuses to move into a respite facility. The responsibility is causing rifts in Laura and Paul’s unstable marriage. They all bear the weight of the certain uncertainty of the future. For a child once alienated from the parent that weight is heavier with regrets and a sense of longing to heal what has been broken. For Monica, how can she heal her relationship with Genie if Genie doesn’t know who she is?
Where Pallaoro excels is in the gestures that make up for the silence. Cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi creates a sense of intimacy. When Monica feels like an outsider, Arizmendi focuses on the actress’ face; allowing her expressions to reveal what she’s holding in. Years of hurt and suppressed emotion bubble to the surface without Monica saying anything to the woman who rejected her so completely. Monica’s conversations with Laura and Paul are superficial because these people don’t know her although they are family.
Slow pacing allows the audience to take in all the tiny elements that define Monica and her relationship with her past and present self. The family home is falling into disrepair although it once was quite an impressive upper middle-class home. Just as Genie’s brain tumor is eroding her sense of self, her home is also fading. Some memories are permanent – such as Monica recalling how Paul had run home for her to bring her a new shoe when she was wearing a mismatched pair. Some memories are being made permanent with Paul recording Genie talking about the childhood of her children and how she could never refuse Paul’s elder sibling. Monica must decide if those memories truly belong to who she is now.
Although it is never spoken of, Genie eventually recognises Monica. There are no scenes of confrontation nor of blame, just acceptance. The gestures of a hand touching a face or holding tight when a family photograph is being taken is enough for Genie to affirm that Monica is loved.
Monica is a profoundly moving and rich film about identity, acceptance, and forgiveness. Trace Lysette and Patricia Clarkson give marvellously rich and subtle performances which although evoke sentimentality, do not invoke mawkishness. Pallaoro’s film is a masterpiece of restraint that allows the story to blossom. When Monica does break down it is all the more powerful. Monica has discovered familial acceptance which is suffused with grace that gives her a new sense of personhood. Monica is a nuanced piece of cinema and one that is about the dignity of finding completeness in oneself in what was thought lost.
