We all live with regrets – some are just small mistakes that bother us at arbitrary moments, while others are enormous errors in judgement that possibly changed the entire trajectory of one’s life, leading to further challenges that can take a major psychological toll on those who aren’t ready to confront the reality of the consequences that come through some poor decisions. This is the starting point for To Leslie, the astonishing and powerful character study written by Ryan Binaco and directed by Michael Morris, who venture into the deepest recesses of the human condition to create this stunning film. The film follows a few months in the life of Leslie, who had a brief moment of incredible good fortune nearly a decade before, after winning the national lottery and, for the briefest moments, being wealthy enough to see a brighter future for her and her family, who could finally find a way out of their impoverished economic situation. However, Leslie’s alcohol abuse essentially led to every cent of that money disappearing, placing them at an even bigger disadvantage, having lost the money that could have changed their lives, and instead now forced to confront even more challenges that come when a family is led by an addict. To Leslie is a bleak and harrowing depiction of reality, a dark but deeply captivating exploration of addiction and poverty, carefully crafted by a director who makes his feature directorial debut after over two decades of reliable work in theatre and on television, where he helmed many exceptional productions that stood him in good stead to tell this haunting but beautifully human story. Detailed in execution, but simple in its narrative construction, the film is a poignant examination of one woman’s journey to self-redemption, told through many moments of brutal honesty and deep psychological torment, all of which reflect the challenges people like her tend to face when their days are seemingly driven by the desire to satiate their addiction, which has destroyed far more lives than any of us may be able to understand.

The continued rise of independent cinema has been a blessing to many young artists, especially now since more resources are being able available to those who intend to make films. Many tend to gravitate towards more simple productions – both due to the fact that more intimate, simple films are easier to make for newer directors, and because mainstream cinema is rarely interested in very simple, human stories that are focused on the details more than they are determined to be marketable to the general population. In the last three decades, we’ve seen a rise in the movement we’re calling New American Realism, which focuses on those who exist on the margins of society – ordinary people who are not outsiders, but yet are positioned as being pariahs, mostly due to their socio-economic status that makes them undesirable, forcing them into communities that share these traits (which only leads to more widespread disdain, on a much larger scale) – and drawing inspiration from the kitchen-sink realism movement that erupted in British cinema in the 1960s, which in turn evolved from Italian Neo-Realism that emerged in the period surrounding the Second World War, these films clearly have a long legacy within the world of cinema. This is important to indicate, since while Morris may be a seasoned veteran in the capacity of having enough experience as a director on stage and television, his collaboration with the novice Binaco (who had written only one project before this, the lacklustre and almost non-existent 3022) creates a vibrant film that is influenced by a range of sources, each one detailed in a way we may not necessarily expect from something as this. Realism has a tendency to surprise us, since these are stories that occur at the perfect intersection between economic strata, social division and psychological issues, which are extremely challenging to line up perfectly, which is achieved with so much elegance and intricacy by the director and his collaborators.

What usually comes along with a commitment to a more realist approach to filmmaking is a sense of heightened emotions, which is often equally a blessing and curse, since it adds the need to do more work to ensure the film effectively takes stock of its emotions in a way that feels genuine, but where doing this well yields incredible results when accomplished correctly. To Leslie is a film with a lot of very dark subject matter – the protagonist is a woman who is beyond broken, having experienced so much tragedy in her life, which was torn apart by broken relationships, a family that gave up on her and a crippling addiction to alcohol that has made her a shadow of her former self, leading her to be hanging onto life by the thinnest of threads. Even from a distance, it is clear that this is a film that contains a lot of emotional content, and as a result there was a need to make sure everything was handled well, or else run the risk of producing a potential disaster, since nothing is quite as divisive as heavy-handed melodrama, which has become something of an epidemic in a lot of social realist dramas. Many view the idea of realism as shorthand for emotional manipulation, with many writers and directors using this as justification for telling some of the most miserable stories ever committed to film. Mercifully, To Leslie does not have that problem, since Morris is able to temper the emotions appropriately – this is a very dark film in terms of the subject matter that it is exploring, and it never softens the blow by making it seem like the problems faced by the titular character is easy to overcome – but what it does manage to do very well is take this gritty, harsh material and infuses it with glimmers of hope in a way that feels authentic. A happy ending may not be guaranteed in life, but they’re certainly possible if one is able to maintain some level of optimism. Good realism requires a balance of emotions, not just misery and anger – and by allowing a few moments of levity to find their way into the story, we find a film that is fully in command of its emotions, being far more moving in its more quiet moments than we may have anticipated based on the premise.

The reason To Leslie has stood out and been appreciated over the last few months is mainly due to the performance at the heart of the film. Andrea Riseborough has been circling around becoming one of our best working actors for over a decade now – her body of work is beyond impressive, and her range is exceptional, with her ability to play any kind of character through her chameleonic range feelings like she is on the precipice of a major breakthrough, which certainly should have happened by now. To Leslie is perhaps too small of a film to earn her that distinction, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a performance that is going to make many viewers realize what an exceptionally gifted actor she is. Every moment we spend with this character is meaningful – she’s a tragic heroine, a woman who has been driven to the edge of sanity as a result of her life descending into chaos (which is arguably a result of her own actions, but not entirely her fault, as we see in encounters with her mother, portrayed brilliantly by Allison Janney, who is once again playing a more villainous character), and who desperately wants to get to a point where she is not only financially secure, but also psychologically stable, which is certainly easier said than done, as many may know. This is a tour-de-force of a performance, and Riseborough is very close to a total revelation, navigating the film with poise and honesty, surrendering to the requirements needed to transform into this character. It’s a beautiful, poetic performance that is a career-best for an already celebrated actor. She is joined by Marc Maron, who continues to prove himself to be a great character actor, showing that he is capable of some more dramatic work by playing the kindhearted motel manager who befriends Leslie and plays a vital role in her recovery. The pair are exceptionally good together, and Maron comes very close to reaching Riseborough’s level of dedication, creating a heartbreaking character of his own that is just as detailed and meaningful, a worthy addition to an already layered film that contains some of the most unexpectedly brilliant performances of the year.

To Leslie is a curious film, the kind of very quiet, meaningful manifesto on the human condition that every director wants to make, but very few see to fruition. It isn’t particularly unique, and it joins a long lineage of similarly-themed films that challenge their actors to play against type, giving them characters that occupy bleak, harrowing corners of the world, and allowing them to turn in unexpectedly strong performances – whereas in days of yore it was Hamlet that was seen as the true test of an actor’s wit, we have gotten to a point where it is a small-scale, independent drama about serious issues that assesses the skillfulness and dedication of a performer. It may seem strange, but when you realize these films often are built less from high-concept storytelling, but rather from pure human emotion, and where the actors have to bare themselves emotionally and psychologically while still convincing us to the specific details of the characters they are playing, it makes a lot of sense. To Leslie is not the kind of film that will redefine how we view independent cinema, and beyond the stunning performances given by Riseborough and Maron, it is a relatively sombre, minor affair that doesn’t necessarily change anything other than provoking some thought and developing its ideas in communion with a broader sense of social awareness. Beautifully poetic, but not afraid to tackle some of the deeper themes, the film is a fascinating character study that never avoids the harsh conversations, being well-aware of the facts of life, which are seamlessly folded into this film, creating a distinct and powerful depiction of a woman trying her best to keep her life together, discovering that it is not nearly as easy as she imagined it to be, especially when the only way forward is to acknowledge the past, rather than running away from it, with the first step to actually healing being the realization of one’s problem, and the proclamation that they want to change, by any means necessary.