Following the death of her husband, Kate (Sonja Smits) retreats into a world filled with vodka, grief – and Halloween costumes. When she befriends three lonely teenagers, her friends and family are dismayed as she seems to discover the woman she could become.
How does one overcome the loss of a loved one? How can her family react when grief invades their daily lives? And how do you remain yourself in the midst of a fragile existence? All these questions are addressed in Better Days, the latest feature film from Canadian director Joan Carr-Wiggin.
A woman (too) surrounded
Kate, a university English teacher, has to come to terms with the unexpected death of her husband, Eric. The event occurs on his birthday, after more than thirty years together. This seemingly well-ordered woman turns out to be quite eccentric in this new phase of her life. Her children, Leah and Jason, are quick to offer advice and recommendations, while Kate wishes above all to grieve in her own way, with peace and freedom. As in Joan Carr-Wiggin’s previous film, a woman is at the center of a suffocating family that has difficulty understanding her needs and desires.
Hector (Darius Rathe), Dylan (Luke Francis), Kate (Sonja Smits) and Nisha (Kerrin Cochrane)
In Better Days, this teacher momentarily abandons her job, and befriends three teenagers to whom she lends costumes belonging to her and her late husband. On the other hand, a somewhat insistent and superficial friend, Jenna, comes to visit her regularly, and assaults her with frivolous and inappropriate remarks. Like Leah and Jason, her generosity is benevolent, but intrusive. Leaving her home for a chat with Dylan, Nisha and Hector, her three new friends, gives Kate a chance to get away from it all and escape a new, dreary, stifling daily routine.
Being where you least expect it
Kate’s existence seems to be slipping away from her, while those around her are themselves riddled with contradictions. Her children think she’s strong and solid, but can’t help feeling anxious about their mother’s slightest deviation, so she struggles to reassure them. Kate surprises, reacts directly, between anger, apathy and provocation.
In a standardized society, it’s shocking to dress up, talk to oneself or give up work. But why not leave everyone free to deal with their grief as they see fit, instead of intrusively and awkwardly deciding for their loved ones? The film is constructed in flashbacks, with camera glances from the main heroine interspersing scenes from the past. Kate adopts a dark, sardonic sense of humor, in the face of recommendations from those closest to her that will not have the desired effect. With her latest feature film, the Canadian director reveals a new character of a woman going through a delicate but transitional period, under pressure from her family and struggling to make her desires heard. The heroine, Kate, will succeed in spite of everything, thwarting the wishes and advice of those closest to her. The lead role is played by Sonja Smits, whose ambiguity perfectly matches the ambivalence of the character. Joan Carr-Wiggin succeeds in bringing out black humor and provocation in a plot that skilfully blends comedy and drama. The secondary characters are equally well crafted and interpreted, often clumsy yet full of good intentions.
Last but not least, the finely-written screenplay is set off by a sober yet dynamic mise-en-scène.
