YEAR OF THE FOX – Review by Liz Whittemore
In Megan Griffiths’ The Year of the Fox, Ivy finds herself caught between girlhood and adulthood as her parents’ messy divorce pulls her from Aspen to Seattle. Her father is a scientist notorious for his lavish parties. As Ivy struggles with her burgeoning sexuality, a doting older man breaks open the gross truth of her environment.
It’s all very Cruel Intentions, rich people’s problems who rarely suffer consequences. Ivy has no comprehension of normalcy. Adopted by two wealthy locals, she struggles to fit into her surroundings. Ivy watches her best friend spiral. The insidious dynamic underneath these booze and drug-fueled parties screams off the screen. An abundance of young girls and wealthy older men never make a trusted combination. It screams Epstein from the very beginning. Once Ivy’s object of desire gets her in a room alone, he spells it out for her.
Jane Adams delivers a melancholy but nuanced performance as Paulene. It’s wiser than at first glance, and Adams nails it. I wish we’d seen even more of her. Jake Weber plays Ivy’s swagger-filled father, Huxley. He’s demanding and cruel underneath his grand gestures. Weber is just as charming as he’s always been, but the endgame writer Eliza Flug creates in Huxley turns your stomach. Weber plays the perfect monster.
Sarah Jeffery gives Ivy a grounded innocence. She has patience in her angst, and an authenticity that immediately grabs your attention. Her narration is perfect. Jeffery has a soft, knowing tone that guides the audience along her journey.
The soundtrack is fantastic, featuring artists like The Cowboy Junkies, Liz Phair, and The Cranberries. I will say, the year makes for a refreshing break from technology. Having played out my teenage years in the same 90s era, I can attest to numerous bonfire nights with no evidence of any such shenanigans. Waif body image is referenced more than a few times.
Both Griffiths and Flug capture the nonchalance of misogyny and privilege. Stylistically, particularly with Ivy’s narration, it reads more like a YA novel, which is genuinely a compliment. Sexual acts are mostly suggestions, and they never once put Jeffery in a physically compromising position. On behalf of every mother and female of the species, I offer a huge thank you to Griffiths and Flug for that very deliberate decision. The film is challenging to watch at times, if only because it makes your blood boil, but it does well to tackle real issues about gender and power dynamics. I have a feeling more stories like these will fill the headlines, sooner rather than later.
