Most of us see the concept of a fresh start as wildly exciting, since it gives us the opportunity to reinvent and reconfigure ourselves to fit our own shifting identity. However, once your life has been defined by a perpetual string of new beginnings, it starts to become somewhat exhausting, especially when your life is uprooted just as you start to feel a sense of belonging. This is what the narrator and protagonist of Mermaids experiences as she navigates the challenging process of being the daughter of a woman who is so intent on finding the perfect life, every time a relationship fails, their entire life endures a major upheaval, moving to a new city and starting anew. These are people living transient, fleeting lives, which is not a healthy existence for anyone, let alone two children that are still developing into their own identities. Patty Dann’s achingly beautiful and bitingly funny novel described an entire generation, showing their struggles when it came to finding their identity and negotiating their way through their development, while still having to face the unexpected challenges that come with living your life as defined by one tabula rasa after another, especially when it is not your own decision, but rather that of others that drive your constantly shifting existence. Adapted for the screen by screenwriter June Roberts, and directed by Richard Benjamin (whose status as one of the more celebrated actor-friendly directors working at the time), Mermaids is about as charming as a film like this could be – an effervescent, heartwarming and very funny coming-of-age narrative that combines great performances and a strong storyline to examine the lives of a group of people who are just trying to make their way through the world, finding a place in which they feel like they belong, and seeing they can finally settle down for long enough to implant themselves and start the next chapter of their life, which they all hope will be one of the longer ones in their story, and perhaps the most exciting.

Mermaids is not a particularly complex film, and we don’t have to wait too long to understand what this film is about. The original novel was driven by a sense of forthright simplicity, which means there wasn’t any reason to conceal the true meaning of the film, which is presented to us in vivid detail. This is a film about the relationship between women of different generations – it is obviously a story of a mother and her two daughters as they navigate unchartered territories of their relationship, especially Rachel’s experiences raising two girls of very different ages, coming to learn the challenges that come with being a single parent. Dann creates three compelling, unique characters, and the narrative explores their individual journeys, as well as the connection that exists between them, which leads to several beautifully poetic moments between these people who are divided by a generational gap, as well as wildly different interests and temperaments, but bound together by a familial connection that can never be broken, regardless of how hostile and challenging their relationship may get, which is the foundation on which the story is built, and which Benjamin works to curate as the film progresses, drawing on Dann’s achingly beautiful manifesto on the strong bonds between family members, as well as exploring the theme of feminity, with each of these characters representing female characters at different stages of their life – Rachel masquerades as a woman who has her life together, conveying confidence and splendour, whereas Kate embodies the childish innocence that we all experience in your younger years. Charlotte is between the two, struggling to come to terms with the fact that she is growing up, caught between adolescent naivete and the urges of adulthood. Benjamin smartly defers to the text when it comes to providing context since there is something far more powerful about these discussions being written from a female perspective. As a whole, Mermaids is a very poignant depiction of womanhood in various ways, and it establishes a clear and concise connection between the text and this adaptation, which brings all the most vital and unique themes to life.

Mermaids did have a slightly difficult pathway to the screen, with a couple of directors being hired and subsequently forced to depart the production due to their ideas not being compatible with what those spearheading the production felt was appropriate for the material. However, the one person who was active in bringing this novel to the screen was Cher – she wasn’t a producer on the film, but she was passionate enough about the source material to ensure that its ideas were accurately portrayed on screen. She worked laboriously to not only design it as a starring vehicle for herself, but also for the rest of the cast, her level of influence ensuring the rest of the roles were populated by actors that best represented the material. Cher is as magnetic and wonderfully complex as always, and she also gives one of her most grounded, complex performances – for someone who is known for her larger-than-life persona, she is capable of taking on these poignant, salt-of-the-earth characters with so much tact and honesty, proving herself to be one of our most well-rounded, complex entertainers in several different arenas. Winona Ryder is also brilliant, playing the part of the conflicted young woman trying to make her way through the final stages of adolescence, which is a challenge considering she doesn’t have an emotional anchor to help her through the process. This period was the start of a very promising career for Ryder, whose complexity as an actor is present in every frame of this performance. Christina Ricci isn’t given too much to do either, but she manages to steal many scenes with her infectious joy, being the purest embodiment of joie de vivre present in this already exuberant film. Finally, it takes a lot of courage to be the only prominent male character in a female-driven film and not divert attention away from the central plot, but Bob Hoskins proves once again that he is not only one of the greatest actors of his generation but also one of the most effortlessly charming, tying together the film by taking on this eccentric and lovable character who helps supplement the journey of the protagonists. It’s a cast with the most exceptional chemistry, and there is not an inauthentic note to be found anywhere in these performances.

However, while it is logical to condense Mermaids to not much more than the trials and tribulations of a mother and her two daughters as they make their way through a world in which they have never truly found a place called home, there is more to the story than just this very charming narrative. Much of the film is built on the milieux – while themes of motherhood and coming into one’s femininity are fascinating in their own right and are universally applicable, there is some value in where and when the film takes place, a specific quality that adds layers of nuance onto an already powerful story. The early 1960s were a fascinating time, especially in terms of the American experience – the country was still being driven by more conservative standards, with old-fashioned family values being prominent and the driving force behind most social interactions, at least in terms of what was considered decent. However, it stood on the threshold of what was to become an enormous cultural and social revolution, with this period being one that brought so many new ideas to the popular consciousness, it was difficult to maintain those values, which was the source of quite a bit of socio-cultural tension. Mermaids is as much a film about familial connection as it is a story that presents itself as a time capsule of America at a very specific moment in the past. Benjamin takes a similar approach as the original author, piecing together this film from fragments of the past, telling the story of the Flax women not only through their own experiences but also through well-curated elements of this period, focusing on the music, fashion and dominant cultural mentalities that drove this gradual but indelible sense of change. Broader subjects like the sexual revolution and the changing face of American politics loom large over the story (the assassination of John F. Kennedy is a small but vital theme that serves as a centrepiece for the story, especially in showing how society reacted), as does the feeling of uncertainty that comes with living in unprecedented times. It’s a fascinating document of the past, with Dann’s novel being as much about her recollections about her upbringing as it is her memories of growing up during such a challenging period, and the film beautifully captures that nostalgic and poetic tone. 

The definition of comfort cinema, Mermaids is the kind of film that feels so rich and alive as a result of its adherence to conventions, rather than despite it, which is often the case with more derivative films. This is not a film that is afraid to be sentimental, since it knows that there is depth to its emotional content and that the story that surrounds it is strong enough to make up for some slightly more questionable, but not any less impactful, thematic ideas. Mermaids is a film that is driven by its sense of unimpeachable warmth and a solid, invigorating sense of heartfulness, which propels the narrative and makes it such a powerful, complex investigation into the relationship between a mother doing her best to raise her children without losing her spark of individuality, and the daughters who are on their journey, and come to realize that, despite her imperfections, their mother is still a good person that is doing the best that she can to raise them and give them the life they so wholeheartedly deserve. It’s a wonderfully detailed, complex film with a lot of heart and an abundance of humour, which is a winning combination that may give it a slightly glossy sheen (rather than the more gritty, kitchen-sink realism that some initially expected to get from the material, as evident by the hiring of Lasse Hallström as the original director), but which is ultimately all worth our time since there is at least an abundance of genuine soulfulness that drives this film and gives it a very distinct tone. On both a narrative and visual level, Mermaids is a wonderful work – the performances are all very strong, the emotions are perfectly balanced and the humour is sharp. More than anything else, this is a memorable leap into the past, a robust and captivating story of finding one’s identity in an era of great social and cultural upheaval. Not many films are capable of being this quietly intimate and beautifully expansive, and its relatively small appearance may cause some viewers to mistake it as slight – but with as compassionate and beautiful a worldview as this, it’s inexplicable to imagine any film can be viewed as anything less than astonishing when it has so much dedication to capturing the rawest and intimate details of life and presenting it with such empathy and undying dedication to celebrating the more unique and unexpected journeys we all tend to undertake at some point.