Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Andy Kelleher
Starring: Cathy Naden, Indra Ové, Eric Richard, Matthew Jure,
Jerry Killick
Watching Second Spring, director Andy Kelleher and writer Martin Herron’s
character study of a middle-aged woman, Kathy (Cathy Naden)
succumbing to a rare brain condition which manifests in uncivil social
interactions, may well make you a little paranoid about the state of your
own mental health. As a complete professional, I try to read as little as
possible about screeners before reviewing them, and, like Kathy herself,
was unaware of the incoming disease plot point. Being of a kindly nature,
I was therefore all for Kathy’s actions in the film’s first act, thinking
I was watching a coolly observed celebration of a woman actively having
her, you know, second spring.
We see Kathy chat up the gardener of the red brick university where she
lectures on ancient history; they go for a spin in his old banger, and
then Kathy bangs him in the back seat. She then goes on to nonchalantly
recount the afternoon to her (boring, steadfast) estranged husband Tim
when she gets home. Her family orientated friend chastises Kathy for
forgetting one of her kid’s birthdays, and, while playing with a different
member of her brood, also bringing a game of Jenga to an untimely halt by
pulling out the bottom jeng. The nonplussed mum has a pop at Kathy in that
entitled way that certain heterosexual kinspeople do, as if the rest of
the world should offer a similar priority to her frankly quotidian
children as she is duty bound to. Put simply, Kathy seems to be living the
exact sort of life that I aspire to be enjoying when I am of a similar
vintage. What a woman.
Problem is though, she is also forgetting things, most notably drying up
during a lecture, and also getting a bit confused. Good old Tim arranges
for a MRI scan and worst luck, it turns out that Kathy has a rare brain
condition which degenerates the frontal lobe of the brain, leading to an
increased sex drive, limited impulse control and lack of patience with
mediocre social interactions (feeling paranoid yet?!).
Kelleher’s direction of this devastating diagnosis is pristine, with his
camera kept at a dignified wide to medium distance throughout the film,
simply presenting Naden’s superb performance. Herron’s script is similarly
discreet too, poignantly essaying the sort of muted, almost mundane,
acceptance and resignation that accompanies such bad news in real life.
Kathy has to carry on, but this means a heightened reliance on the
gardener she cheerfully had it off with in the film’s opening sequence (Jerry Killick). Nick turns out to be exactly the sort of person who buys an old BMW
and calls it vintage. He is in his late fifties and has long hair. But, no
good deed goes unpunished, and the extraordinary fortune he experienced
earlier in the film now means that he is stuck with Kathy as she begins to
regress more and more noticeably.
Of course, with Nick being feckless, and Tim just biding his time, this
essentially means that Kathy is fundamentally alone.
Second Spring tells her story in a way that this is
sympathetic, rather than sensationalist. This is, of course, the early
duration of an incurable illness wherein the symptoms are an
inconvenience; what is terrifying is the prospect of the condition taking
over, of how much time there is left before the disorder completely
subsumes Kathy. Second Spring captures the preciousness of
these moments with not only decorum but rare wit and warmth too. A deeply
human film.
Second Spring is in UK cinemas from
September 3rd.
