It’s a title straight from literature – a line from a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge – for a film where a love of books is part of its DNA. Based on the novel of the same name by Miriam Toew, All My Puny Sorrows is a film which struggles to lift itself off the written page, despite the efforts of the strong female cast at its centre.
The Von Riesen clan have had more than their fair share of sadness. The father (Donal Logue) killed himself on the railway track and, as the resilient Aunt Tina (Mimi Kuzyk) recalls, he’s one of a number. His widow, Lottie, (Mare Winningham) tries to keep the family together: Yoli (Alison Pill) is a writer, full of self-doubt and going through a lengthy divorce, while her sister Elf (Sarah Gadon) is a concert pianist whose depression eventually leads to a suicide attempt. While in hospital, lengthy conversations bring the two closer together again, but Elf’s request to be taken to Switzerland where euthanasia is legal rings loud alarm bells with her sister.
With the family’s Scandinavian background, the broodingly cold landscape and precisely composed scenes – the sisters having conversations while looking in opposite directions, or sitting next to each other with their eyes focussed on the distance (but never each other) – there’s the distinct impression that writer/director Michael McGowan is trying to follow in the footsteps of Ingmar Bergman. Sadly he doesn’t get there, but the issue isn’t the visuals. He’s constantly hampered by his own script, one so full of literary references that it sounds like it hasn’t moved away from between the covers of the original book. The conversations, especially in the moments between the sisters, doesn’t sound like dialogue so they often talk at rather than to each other. A similar stiffness seeps into the locations, many of which are interiors, giving the production the look and feel of an adapted play, rather than a novel.
There are moments of relief, and they also come from the language, this time the bitter, dark and sometimes flippant humour that just about everybody in the family uses to conceal their real feelings and shield themselves from confronting the deep-seated tragedy that overshadows them all. Wry smiles are the order of the day, rather than out-loud laughter, but even they don’t escape those all-pervasive nods towards literature. It asks a lot of the cast, particularly Pill and Gadon who both try valiantly to create the necessary closeness between the two sisters. At times, it works, but at others the script just gets in the way, creating a distance between them and an even bigger gulf between them and the audience. Mare Winningham has an easier time, constantly looking like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and is in desperate need of a hug.
While there is a note of hope at the end – as Winningham reflects “We are meant to move on” – it doesn’t give the film the emotional tug that it’s clearly searching for. Nor are we as affected as we should be by Elf’s personal agonies and, while the film treats its themes with the gravity and respect they deserve, there’s an emptiness at the end when there should be empathy.
★★ 1/2
Drama | Cert: tbc | Toronto International Film Festival, 10, 12, 17 and 18 September 2021.|Dir. Michael McGowan | Sarah Gadon, Alison Pill, Mare Winningham, Donal Logue, Mimi Kuzyk.
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