Much like I suspect would be the case with many people, I first became acquainted with Sean Baker in 2015, when he had a major breakthrough with Tangerine, an extraordinarily ambitious dark comedy about two transgender sex workers that was notable for both its unconventional narrative, the fact that it was shot entirely on an iPhone and (perhaps most importantly), its extraordinary compassion, all of which factored into the success he received in terms of both critical acclaim and the various accolades he and his cohorts picked up along the way. However, despite being objectively his breakthrough as a director, it was far from his first film, as he had been working steadily since the late 1990s, which led many to take the leap backwards and explore his earlier work, which was only made more necessary with films like The Florida Project and Red Rocket, both of which introduced the director to entirely new legions of supporters who are able to encounter his unconventional but brilliant vision for the first time. This preamble is merely to introduce a discussion on Starlet, which may be a contender for not only Baker’s most unique film, but also the one that could be his greatest achievement, perhaps a bold assertion considering he has been on an upward trajectory for about a decade, and is showing very little sign of slowing down in any conceivable way. A daring, beautifully poetic story about a down-on-her-luck young woman who moonlights as an adult entertainer, and who has her entire perspective changed after an encounter with an elderly curmudgeon who she insists on befriending, finding a kindred spirit in this eccentric older woman who in turns finds her humdrum existence challenged by this exciting, free-spirited young rebel who infuses some energy into her life. A quintessential example of Baker’s extraordinary prowess as a filmmaker, and a film that is both complex and delightfully quaint, Starlet is beyond charming, an upbeat and oddly motivating dark comedy with many admirable elements, and an abundance of quirks that make it truly exceptional.

The odd couple scenario is beyond overdone at this point, but it continues to factor into a majority of contemporary works primarily because it is a narrative model that has been tried and tested consistently across every conceivable medium for about as long as stories have been told. The film tends to love this structure since the concept of pairing two completely different individuals across from each other has proven to be very effective, especially since the stories essentially begin to write themselves after a while. Starlet is, at its core, a film about two wildly different individuals who come to form an unexpected friendship, with factors such as their age, social status and interests not being deterrents in the very firm connection they form after they get to know one another. Baker uses this very common narrative trope as an entry-point into a truly touching story of an inter-generational friendship, following the exploits of these two people as they grow to understand one another, gradually beginning to see beyond the hardened, cynical veneer they both present to the outside world, and soon coming to realize that they have more in common than they initially expected. Starlet will appeal to anyone who has ever found value in the connection they form with someone from a different generation, whether it a grandparent or some other kind of mentor figure that uses their wisdom (or sometimes the lack thereof) to guide the younger of the pair to live a more balanced, nuanced life. It’s a very peculiar concept that this film captures beautifully, finding a sense of vibrancy in a very simple but evocative narrative that gradually and methodically builds on the friendship between the two protagonists, who prove that some of the strongest connections are formed between the most unexpected of companions and that these friendships can sometimes be the most ironclad and meaningful, something that Baker uses as the foundation for this delightfully endearing story of two wayward individuals finding each other when they most needed it, leading to a very clear exemplification of true serendipity.

While he has been able to recruit some more recognizable actors in recent years (albeit very rarely choosing the most major stars – the only household name he has worked with as a director has probably been Willem Dafoe, with all of his other collaborators usually being a blend of character actors and more obscure or faded names that have never occupied the limelight in any substantial way), Baker started his career working with mostly unknowns, and Starlet is very much the embodiment of this loose-form approach to casting. The two leads are fascinating not only for their talents but also for their personal lives and origins. The younger of the two protagonists is portrayed by Dree Hemingway, the granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway and one of the many members of that dynasty to enter into the profession of acting. She’s wonderful in the film, turning in an earnest and heartfelt performance as a young woman lost in a life she didn’t ever envision for herself, but who feels like she cannot ever aspire to more as a result of the existential ennui that keeps her in a state of angst. It’s an honest and bold depiction of millennial anxiety, and Hemingway commits wholeheartedly to the role. However, the undeniable breakout of the film is Besedka Johnson, who had never acted previously (and would never act again, passing away less than a year after this film was released), who was discovered by chance and who dedicates everything to the role of this elderly woman who thought the rest of her life would solely be spent slowly wasting away as she waits to transition into the afterlife that she constantly finds herself questioning. Johnson delivers such a spellbinding, heartfelt performance, every moment she is on screen bursts with life and energy, despite her frail condition and advanced age. One of the great debut performances of the past couple of decades, and one that is as surprising as it is beautifully poetic, Johnson is incredible. The chemistry between the two leads is exceptional and wonderfully invigorating and leads to a film that is as poetic as it is outrageously funny, which is important considering the underlying message and how Baker chooses to construct it in vivid detail.

There are many traits embedded in Baker’s work that are worth discussing, and his body of work does speak for itself when it comes to certain concepts. All of his films in the last fifteen years have revolved around the personal and domestic lives of sex workers in various forms, and he has been outspoken in his advocacy for those who choose to make a living in this way. Starlet could have been exploitative and one-dimensional in the hands of anyone else, especially someone who didn’t understand the nuances necessary to tell this story. Arguably, the film is not directly about this profession (none of the films ever are – the protagonists are involved in it, but it never guides the narrative beyond shading in their nuances as characters), and instead uses it as a foundation for exploring the importance of empathy and understanding. The two main characters in Starlet are women who are divided by over half a century in terms of their age, and who come from entirely different backgrounds – yet, they find each other and form a strong friendship that withstands many challenges. The only way to take such a concept and make it truly engaging is through wall-to-wall compassion, which is the cornerstone of most of the director’s work. His handle of emotions is exquisite – his films are hilarious but have a very tender core, and they always avoid overwrought emotions as far as possible. He is not entirely subversive, and this film (like all his others) does follow a slightly rigid narrative, rather than being entirely freeform, so there will be the expected ebb and flow in terms of the connection between the two characters as their friendship is tested, but this is ultimately all part of the process of understanding the film and what it represents. Baker actively avoids heavy-handed moments, frequently choosing a more lightweight, but still very meaningful, tone to tell the story. It quietly and intimately examines the relationship between the two protagonists and uses their journeys and their eventual friendship as a way to examine the various paths people take in their day-to-day lives, and the challenges that can emerge when attempting to navigate a confusing and bitter world on your own.

Starlet doesn’t promote itself as having some deeper, more complex meaning, but it certainly doesn’t baulk at the opportunity to demonstrate its true grit when necessary, which is a great testament to Baker’s prowess as a filmmaker who is both cutting-edge and truly generous in both style and substance of his stories, demonstrating a truly remarkable empathy. There is so much charm behind this film, and while Baker would continue to push himself and grow as an artist as time went on, it’s undeniable that what he is doing with Starlet is nothing short of incredible, and the reason it may be his greatest work is because of how raw and unfiltered it is – the aesthetic is decidedly very low-budget and has a do-it-yourself quality that is very appealing to those who adore the grittiness of truly independent cinema, and the presence of mainly unknown or obscure actors in both the lead and supporting parts gives it a sense of authenticity that anchors it without a recognizable version of reality – these are not movie stars masquerading around in an artificial depiction of near-poverty and sex work, but rather a genuinely moving story of real people that we can easily imagine being entirely truthful, especially since the director and his actors work closely together to construct these people as complex, engaging and thoroughly realistic individuals. Starlet is a masterful film – it has its moments of meandering, and it can sometimes be partially opaque in its intentions, but it is undeniably a pure, honest examination of ordinary people trying to merely survive. Bitingly funny and deeply heartfelt, Baker juggles humour and melancholy exceptionally well, combining them into this poetic and earnest portrayal of the human condition, celebrating its joys and trying to offer some insight into the ways to overcome the challenges that everyone will likely experience at some point, and how joy can usually be found where we least expect it, or at least in the places we didn’t anticipate would be quite so endearing.