You have to give credit to Lena Dunham – for around a decade, she has withstood an endless stream of controversies, ranging from the lack of nuance on her television show Girls or the questionable morality she demonstrated through her autobiographical writings. Not necessarily a defence of Dunham, especially since many of these criticisms do hold a significant amount of credence (especially those relating to her inability to infuse her work with diversity, or the discussions relating to her private life that has stirred a significant amount of discourse), but rather an objective statement of her fascinating tenacity as an artist. She has weathered the storms that sought to bring her down, and emerged mostly unscathed, at least in terms of her artistic output, continuously working, either as a writer, actress or director (if not all three), which is where we should focus in terms of her work. Her output may have become more sporadic since Girls ended, but it has certainly not ceased entirely, as evident by the existence of Sharp Stick, her feature directorial follow-up to the well-received Tiny Furniture, which is considered a mainstay of the mumblecore independent movement, and the work that first brought attention to this gifted young artist. Now at a later stage of her career, Dunham has shown that she may have matured, but she still possesses that provocative energy that made her earlier work so noteworthy. It is doubtful that she will earn any new fans through Sharp Stick, but she does offer a very strong case for her role as one of the more interesting filmmakers working today, at least in terms of how she portrays some common themes in a way that is refreshingly honest and thought-provoking, which is all this film needed to be in order to qualify as something of a success.

Regardless of how one feels about her as an artist or a person as a whole, it’s impossible to deny that Dunham has a very distinct and precise point of view, which has mainly been the source of the divided reactions. Never one to adhere to the decorum of any particular style, and instead aimed to develop her own, she has consistently marched to the beat of her own drum. Sharp Stick demonstrates this with precision and consistency, proving once again to be a very polarizing work that sets its sights extraordinarily high, and is proud of whatever targets it manages to hit, never lamenting those that are missed entirely. It’s a bold film that plays to the rafters, and is logically going to earn as much praise as it does ire from different viewers. In a way, this is far more fitting for a film like this, which works much better as a polarizing dark comedy than it does as one that is embraced by the majority of the audience. However, even if we disregard the specific intent of the approach the director took to the material, Sharp Stick shows an interest in having many engaging conversations, especially on the subject of sexual identity. Dunham has spoken about the fact that she was inspired to write this story after working her way through many immensely important films of the 1970s, such as those by John Cassavetes and Paul Mazursky, which featured strong-willed female characters that broke free of the constraints of the patriarchy to go in search of their own identity. Naturally, Sharp Stick is always going to pale in comparison to these revolutionary works, but it is hardly surprising that they all emerged at a time when conversations around female empowerment and liberation were at a crucial point in their history. 

While she has not always been the most consistently dedicated in terms of feminist filmmaking, Dunham has proven to be willing to have some deeply meaningful conversations on the subject. Despite my more positive response, I have no delusions about this film – Sharp Stick is not the most effective work, nor the one that will change anyone’s perceptions of Dunham’s artistic perspective or ability to tell a story in a way that is effective. However, it is also one of the most daring and provocative films on the subject of sexuality released over the last year, comparable to films like Red Rocket and Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, which are unabashedly honest and forthright about how they explore the subject of sexual identity. These are three very different films (outside of being comparable in their more upbeat tone, which conceals a deep sadness that is beautifully explored in each individual work), but what they do share is a very clear sense of pushing boundaries, Sharp Stick isn’t always as effective as it could have been – the tone is quite jagged, and there are several ideas that are introduced but not seen through to the very end (such as the characterization of the protagonist, who seems to be a bundle or quirks more than a fully-realized individual in her own right), but there’s a rawness to the proceedings that is quite simply impossible to ignore, especially when we see the extent to which the narrative is willing to take this character and the situations she gradually encounters as a result of her burgeoning identity.

Sharp Stick is the most unconventional of coming-of-age stories, specifically in how it looks at a character at a very awkward stage in her life – a young woman who is in her mid-twenties, but yet has the emotional experience of a teenager, having struggled to develop naturally as a result of a critical medical procedure that brought on a wealth of insecurities. In this regard, it was vital that Dunham find the right actress for the role, and she struck gold in the form of Kristine Froseth, whose performance is the absolute highlight of the film. If a film cannot be brilliant overall, it can at least have strong actors, and Froseth ties the entire film together, with Sharp Stick being an audacious breakthrough for this talented young woman. Whenever it feels like the film is veering too off-course to be comfortable or effective, Froseth manages to ground it and bring it back to reality, anchoring the entire story and reminding us of the importance of realism in even the most abstract works. Dunham’s directorial style is inherently more heightened, so the contrast between her vaguely absurd sense of humour and Froseth’s precise and dedicated performance leads to a fascinating combination of ideas that would have been seen as a disastrous collision in other instances. They’re helped along by a supporting cast that includes Jennifer Jason Leigh, Taylour Paige, Jon Bernthal and Scott Speedman, all of whom have brilliant moments that contribute to the film and its very compelling tone, which helps us overlook some of the more peculiar moments that may not be enough to derail the film, but would have been seen as a distraction had there not been a lot of good work being done to populate the film with a range of memorable characters.

It’s unlikely that anyone will have their opinion changed on Dunham after watching this film – those who enjoy her work will see this as another decent entry into her idiosyncratic career, while those who consider her insufferable and privileged are almost certainly going to have their opinion consolidated her. This is an unapologetically bombastic film with wild ideas and a scathing, razor-sharp wit that can take the viewer by surprise. It’s hardly anything we have not seen Dunham and some of her contemporaries do before (and perhaps even better in previous instances), but it’s still an undeniably solid effort from a director who has a very interest worldview, one that she expresses in sometimes controversial ways, but which only point to her steadfast honesty and strong individuality. It can result in a sensory overload, especially since Dunham is not the most subtle of filmmakers, with the convergence of blaring music and a neverending flurry of imagery creating a situation where we can feel overwhelmed – but considering how this is very much aligned with the overall sensibilities of the film, one can argue that it makes perfect sense in context, especially when the film is working with a much deeper set of theoretical tools than would appear on the surface. Hilariously funny, but also sobering in how it approaches some very complex themes, Sharp Stick is a fascinating film, created by a director whose interest in the subject matter is very clear, and if you look beneath the excess, you find a rather charming, compassionate comedy with a lot of heart and a biting sense of humour.