Three sisters reuniting in the farmhouse that they grew up in, in their rural Mississippi community. Beth Henley’s Crimes of the Heart is a staple of community and amateur theatre and has been a reliable production ever since debuting decades ago, with its story of family and community resonating with audiences. It also received the film treatment, being made into a major motion picture, helmed by Bruce Beresford, a filmmaker known for his adaptations of stage productions, translating them effectively to the screen. His version of Henley’s play is a wonderful achievement – a beautiful and poetic adaptation of a production that looks at the basic tenets of human existence, exploring the psyches of three women who are forced to consider the past, and atone for their various “crimes of the hearts”. A film that has strangely been overlooked as a major piece of character-driven drama, Crimes of the Heart is an eccentric and often extremely funny film that grapples the line between comedy and tragedy so carefully, the risk is palpable, and the results are worthwhile. Beresford is certainly not a director who brings excess or much style to his productions, but they have a certain warmth, and Crimes of the Heart, while dreadfully underseen, is perhaps his best film, and a definite gem.

Rebecca, known affectionately as Babe (Sissy Spacek), is the youngest of three sisters who hail from the small town of Hazlehurst in Mississippi. She is married to an abusive and racist county official, and when he finds out about her friendship with a young African-American man, his response is far from enthusiastic. As a response, Babe shoots him, and while he doesn’t die, he is severely injured. She is soon to be put on trial for what appears to be attempted murder, but she is quite openly adamant that she shot him, with all her wits about her, and in full knowledge of what she was doing, citing that she “didn’t like his looks”. Also living in Hazlehurst is her sister Lenny (Diane Keaton), who is far more of a milquetoast, living her life in relative solitude in their childhood home, spending her days gardening and wandering about town. The third sister arrives soon after Babe’s incident. Meg (Jessica Lange) left Mississippi in the hopes of pursuing a career in entertainment. When stardom eluded her, Meg found herself in the midst of a nervous breakdown which quashed any hopes she had of ever becoming a star. The three sisters, who all lead completely different lives and have committed various individual crimes of the heart, are brought together under less-than-ideal circumstances, and while everything is initially quite tense and uncomfortable, their deep-rooted, well-concealed love for each other becomes evident, and they find out that regardless of what happens, we always have our family on our side, or at least it would seem in this case.

Crimes of the Heart is a film driven almost solely by performances – and perhaps this is why it remains relatively underseen (but not without considerable acclaim from audiences and critics at the time), because Beresford is a director who seems, at least at that point in his directorial career, to prefer more simple storytelling in favour of stronger characters. It is hardly something we can have much disdain for, because adapting a play is not nearly as easy as it would appear, and considering Crimes of the Heart is one of the great character-driven pieces of its time, it only makes sense the film production would be slightly less visually-pleasing and more focused on the performances. Of course, this is precisely where a film like Crimes of the Heart would excel, and it does so brilliantly here, composing a small but talented cast of performers who were all in the apex of their careers at the time of this film’s production, each giving memorable performances. Where else can you see three of the finest American actresses of their generation – Jessica Lange, Diane Keaton and Sissy Spacek – acting across from each other in scenery-chewing, complex roles? Crimes of the Heart is a perfect portrayal of masterful performances, and the chemistry between the entire cast is something to behold. Even minor performances, such as those by Sam Shepard and Tess Harper are memorable and manage to create a rich tapestry of southern gothic charm.

Of the three leads, it is difficult to choose who was the best, and unlike other films that have a few major roles, Crimes of the Heart is relatively equally divided between the three actresses, each one of them being considered a lead, and excelling at everything they were given to do. Diane Keaton is the most outwardly sensitive of the three leads, playing Lenny with a blend of social anxiety and reserved introspection, a considerable change from her more extroverted characters in her more well-known performances, such as her iconic performance as the titular character in Annie Hall. Keaton understandably has the least interesting of the three characters, as while Lenny is far from perfect, she is also the purest and undamaged of the three. Yet, Keaton is so compelling in the performance, anchoring the film and helping with keeping her two scene-partners firmly grounded when their more eccentric characters threaten to take unnecessary flight. Sissy Spacek, an actress who is hardly given her dues as one of the most unique and charismatic performers of her time, shines as Babe, the vengeful but almost childlike woman who finds herself in a criminal position after she nearly fatally shoots her husband. There are some moments in Crimes of the Heart where one would start to believe that this could be Spacek’s finest performance, such as her account of the incident, that is simultaneously shocking and hilarious. Spacek’s performance is intricate and masterful, and her comedic timing is exquisite, and she rises above the more unlikeable elements of the character.

Finally, the performance that perhaps could be considered my personal favourite is that of Jessica Lange, whose captivating portrayal of Meg is extraordinary. A woman returning to her roots after venturing off into the world, an outsider being welcomed back into the community, Meg is a conflicted character. She spent so long trying to run away from where she originated, yet she cannot deny the might one’s hometown has. Its a wonderful performance from an actress who defined her career mostly through more hardened, cynical characters, bringing with her a sense of vulnerability into Crimes of the Heart, which shows a more sensitive side to Lange, and one we hardly get to see. All three leads are exceptional, and their ability to play off each other gives off the impression that they are fully committed to creating the sense of an unbreakable bond between these characters, and we eventually start to become privy to the illusion that they are real sisters, bound together by the past. Tess Harper, as mentioned previously, has a memorable supporting role, stealing nearly every scene she is in as the exuberant but sycophantic local gossip and opportunist, Chick. Hurd Hatfield may only appear in three scenes, but his performance as Old Granddaddy leaves an indelible impression, with his kind and generous performance adding a potent layer of warmth to a film that is often very tragic.

Crimes of the Heart is a strange film, because it seemingly defies categorization, to the point where the audience is not sure where this film should be placed. It is neither a comedy nor a drama, yet it features some hilarious moments, as well as some deeply tragic ones. Henley’s play is one that doesn’t necessarily mock serious themes, but rather looks at them through a more lighthearted lens – and some of it can appear to be quite jarring and unsettling had the context of the film around it not been accounted for. Scenes where Lenny and Babe tell Meg about their grandfather being put into what is likely going to be a coma that marks the final stages of his life, but not being able to suppress the laughs instantly come to mind as an example of subliminal emotional storytelling – their reasons for relentless laughter in a scene that is far from funny are not made clear, but rather appears to be a moment of unhinged emotional catharsis, where their feelings of despair are so intense, they manifest into an expression of joy. Another pivotal scene is towards the end of the film, a sequence where Babe attempts suicide – her attempts at hanging herself fail when the chandelier breaks. She can’t bring herself to plunge a knife into her heart, and the oven won’t turn on, which prevents her from dying from asphyxiation. “I guess I’m just having a bad day” is how she justifies trying to end her life. Crimes of the Heart is a darkly comical film, and there are several moments of levity, especially ones that require humour as an antidote to tragedy. Crimes of the Heart may find the humour in traumatic situations, but rather than making a mockery of these moments, it rather chooses to find the joy that can be derived from seemingly any situation.

Like any great southern gothic work, there is also some form of melodrama, which works to this film’s advantage. Crimes of the Heart is a very warm film, one that is focused on the relationship between three sisters. It may occasionally resemble a soap opera (helped in no less by the amateur production design and overly-simplistic visual style), and the small-town harbouring deeper secrets are something explored quite often in lesser productions. Yet, the element of Crimes of the Heart that is perhaps its most significant merit is its warmth. Despite being quite clinical in terms of the story it tells (the central storyline does involve nervous breakdowns, stroke-induced comas and attempted murder), there is a genial atmosphere in this film, mainly derived from the how family-focused this film is. The three sisters are all different, and do have many conflicts that threaten to tear them apart – in fact, their past did force them away from each other, but only momentarily. Despite their differences, they find their way back to each other in times of tragedy or despair, and their unbreakable bond remains as strong as ever. This is precisely why Crimes of the Heart remains a masterful example of great acting – what these actresses share here is nothing short of astonishing, and they alone allow this film to look at some very serious themes in a more lighthearted way, because it never feels mean-spirited, but rather imbued with impenetrable warmth and impeccable radiance. That’s where this film soars, and why it is a very special work.

Crimes of the Heart deserves to be revisited. It has unfortunately fallen by the wayside, as it is quite an unassuming film. It is too often dismissed as just a low-budget theatre adaptation with great performances when in actuality those performances are precisely why this film cannot remain underseen. For what this film lacks in visual finesse, it more than makes up for in characterization, and having the original playwright working on the script allows for necessary changes, and for Henley’s unique vision to be effortlessly translated to the screen. The three leads give standout performances, with all of them giving defining performances that may not be their best-known roles, but are certainly some of their very best. Crimes of the Heart is a warm, loving film that never feels inauthentic, and the exuberance at the core of the story radiates throughout, leaving the viewer with a delighted sensation, captivated by the masterful storytelling and fully-immersed in this strange but endearing world of deception, murder and pecan pies. A really entertaining, adorable and eccentric little film that deserves much more than the cult following it has received, and everything else a passionate work of dark comedy like this warrants. This film is extremely fun, full of surprises, well-acted by a talented cast and genuinely heartwarming – what else do you need?