Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: Kelly O'Sullivan, Alex Thompson
Starring: Katherine Mallen Kupferer, Chloe Coleman, Sophie Okonedo, David Hyde Pierce, Tara Mallen, Beck Nolan, Iman Vellani
They say the best way to get over the loss of a pet is to immediately adopt a new one. In Kelly O'Sullivan and Alex Thompson's third feature, Mouse, the young protagonist's mother is a veterinarian. At one point we see her present a woman who recently had to put her dog down with a fluffy new replacement, and it clearly brings joy to the grieving woman. But people aren't cats and dogs. When you lose a loved one you can't just go to the pound and pick up a new one.
That's a lesson that will be learned the hard way by Mouse's two central characters. Teenagers Minnie (Katherine Mallen Kupferer) and Callie (Chloe Coleman) are the best of friends, despite having little in common. Minnie is introverted and scientifically minded, while Callie is outgoing and a flamboyant theatre kid with her heart set on Julliard. Minnie is from a single parent working class home, working an evening job at a children's playground to help out her mother Barbara (Kupferer's real life mum, Tara Mallen), while Callie has a comfortable middle class life. Callie is the most popular girl in school, while Minnie feels invisible.
When Callie dies in a car crash, Minnie feels even more invisible than ever. Her classmates attempt to rewrite history by claiming they were Callie's best friends, and Minnie's grief is hijacked when they strongarm their drama teacher Mr. Murdaugh (David Hyde Pierce) into turning the upcoming talent show into a tribute to Callie. Minnie finds comfort when she reconnects with Callie's mother Helen (Sophie Okonedo), a sophisticated British woman who resettled in Arkansas and gave up her life as a classical concert pianist when she married her American husband. Helen had devoted her life to her daughter, as much her musical tutor as her mother. When Minnie asks Helen to coach her for the talent show, both parties initially seem to benefit from the deal.
O'Sullivan and Thompson's previous film, the acclaimed Ghostlight, explored the healing power of performance, so you might think you know what to expect from Mouse's scenario. But things are far messier between Minnie and Helen. It's established early on that Mouse won't end with the triumphant talent show performance a less honest film would offer. Minnie possesses no musical talent, and this frustrates Helen, who can't bring herself to tell the teenager she's wasting her time. Hearing Minnie butcher the show tunes her late daughter warbled so beautifully is a dagger in Helen's heart. Minnie is no replacement for Callie. Similarly, Minnie finds that Helen can't be the substitute best friend she longs for. When Minnie arrives drunk at Helen's home one night, she is hurt to find this scornful adult woman treating her like a child rather than an equal. Both Minnie and Helen are fruitlessly trying to escape their grief by naively attempting to hammer square pegs into the round holes in their hearts.
There is an underlying class tension throughout Mouse, with Minnie embarrassed by the home her mother provides, filled with rescued dogs Barbara doesn't have the heart to put down and a toddler who Barbara agreed to look after for a couple of weeks that have now turned into months. Minnie can't see that her mother is trying her best because she superficially judges her against Helen and her middle class trappings. With her posh British accent, Helen is similarly uncomfortable in the surrounds of Arkansas, her unconscious snobbery brilliantly represented by Okonedo's body language in the presence of people she likely views as uncultured yokels.
Rather than a triumphant finale, this is the sort of movie where everything is inevitably headed for a collision. Confrontations will be had, truths will be told and feelings will be hurt. A late scene between Helen and Barbara, two women with nothing in common except knowing what it's like to love a child, is played with devastating power by Okonedo and Mallen, and when the former asks "Am I still a mom?" your soul will turn to dust. In a movie filled with outstanding performances, it is Hyde Pierce who gets the most quietly shattering scene when he discusses grief with Minnie. The Frasier star's delivery hints at an entire unspoken monologue that suggests he has suffered a very specific loss himself, and as a gay man of his generation we mentally join the dots. Mouse explores grief with brutal honesty. It is as delicate as a tear-stained tissue, as comforting as a neighbour's casserole.
Mouse is in US cinemas from November 6th. A UK/ROI release has yet to be announced.
