“Mouse” – Not so very Minnie [MOVIE REVIEW]
By Neely Swanson
“Mouse” is that kind of extraordinary small movie that hits all its marks and leaves an indelible impression. A film about love, loss, grief and coming-of-age, Director-partners Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson, working from a script by O’Sullivan, have produced a warm story with many intersecting parts, puzzle pieces that never seem to join until they do.
Callie Bell is the center of many universes and worthy of them all. She is the best friend to so many in her class at North Little Rock, Arkansas, but the special friend of Minnie, awkward, quiet, introspective, whose rivers run deep but invisible to all but Callie, in whose shadow she walks. She’s an outstanding student and tutors Callie in math, although it appears to be in vain given the failing marks she still receives. Callie, the class star, is the lead in all the plays, sings and dances with a goal toward Julliard, sweeping her friend up in her wake, although Minnie’s talents in that direction are yet to surface. Callie, the most popular girl in school, is effortless in her kindness and inclusion; not the case with her friends Cara and Kat, mean girls were it not for Callie’s intervention.
Chloe Coleman and Katherine Mallen Kupferer. Photo by Nate Hurtsellers and Luke Dyra, courtesy of Independent Film Company.
The social divide between Callie and Minnie is never more evident than in their home situations. Minnie lives on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks with a mother, Barbara, who has none of the social graces or disposable income of the Bells of this world. She’s not ill intended; her circumstances are limited as is the time and effort she expends on Minnie. She’s the kind of mother you want to drop you off on the corner, not at the school. Minnie, if she had friends, would never invite them home. Helen, Callie’s mother, a former classical pianist, is otherworldly. Her home is a haven to all; she’s in the PTA and makes cupcakes and encourages Callie’s musical ambitions. She is the mother we all wish had been ours and she makes it seem so effortless.
Katherine Mallen Kupferer and Tara Mallen. Photo by Nate Hurtsellers and Luke Dyra, courtesy of Independent Film Company.
Then tragedy strikes. Callie is killed in a car accident and the world is upended. When the universe is thrown off its axis, walls crumble and the world spins out of control. Callie’s legion of friends begin the “She loved me most” marathon and left in the dust is the invisible Minnie who was, truly, Callie’s other half. She had helped define them all and now that definition is fraying at the edges. Minnie no longer has an anchor; she has no reason to be. Barbara, clueless about Minnie’s life, is not insensitive but is lost in her own day-to-day weeds of survival. Without Callie, Minnie has no idea of who she is, but then she never did.
Everyone else, including Minnie, will find new purpose. But Helen? Callie was her purpose. An English pianist working with a Chamber Orchestra in Europe, she was wooed by a visiting American soldier. Never a passionate love match, Helen saw a new avenue open up. Being a mother was something she really wanted to explore and this was an exciting opportunity. So she married and moved to North Little Rock, her new husband’s hometown. With Callie’s birth, she found purpose. She plunged in, loving motherhood and immersing herself to provide for her daughter. It was who she became; it was how she defined herself. Their home was the hub for her charismatic daughter’s friends. Callie inherited her mother’s kindness and inclusivity. Helen understood fully that the lonely Minnie was the important introspective side to her outgoing daughter. And it was all gone in a second of distraction behind the wheel.
Sophie Okonedo. Photo by Nate Hurtsellers and Luke Dyra, courtesy of Independent Film Company.
Helen, as lost as she is, recognizes what the almost catatonic Minnie is feeling. They find each other’s comfort symbiotic. Helen feels she can hold on to Callie by holding on to Minnie, a child in desperate need of understanding. In Helen, Minnie sees the ideal of the mothering she feels, rightfully or wrongly, she has been denied. Minnie is lost, unsure of how to move forward when moving forward was never really an option without Callie.
A chance encounter at a video store results in a friendship, one that might yield something more for the confused Minnie. New friendship, not to mention a possible romantic connection, has never been part of her equation but it opens up a new range of options, options her mother wouldn’t understand, or so she thinks. It is to Helen she turns as their relationship becomes tighter and more untenable for reasons Helen begins to understand. Helen, whose whole existence was based on Callie, realizes that no one, not even Callie’s best friend, can fill that void. Minnie is incapable of recognizing that she is looking for substitutions, not solutions.
Helen’s love, loss and grief are the backbone to Minnie’s eventual self reflection. Pushing Minnie back to her overwhelmed mother is an act of selfless kindness on the part of Helen. The loss for both the mom and the friend are inextricably tied to each’s eventual ability to move on. One, Helen, has lost her reason for being; the other, Minnie, must find her way to adulthood, no longer a part of Callie’s or Helen’s whole but as her own being. That moment for Minnie will come in a very brave, defining moment.
Sophie Okonedo and Katherine Mallen Kupferer. Photo by Nate Hurtsellers and Luke Dyra, courtesy of Independent Film Company.
O’Sullivan and Thompson seamlessly and smoothly direct this puzzle of many moving but not necessarily intersecting pieces. The development in O’Sullivan’s script is gradual and deep, enhancing the subtle changes in all the characters, all touched by Callie in meaningful ways. Even if the Callie’s universe is knocked off its axis, it continues to turn in all their lives, spiralling out in different directions.
Casting was a big part in the success of this warm, impactful film. Katherine Mallen Kupferer is the lost, introverted Minnie. She shows us the meaning of adolescent confusion and loss; on the precipice of maturity that could go wildly wrong or pull itself toward understanding. Chloe Colman, as Callie, has an indelible presence that is felt even after she disappears from the screen. She is the supernova that radiates kindness and you understand why she generated the kind of feelings she did. Tara Mallen plays Barbara, Minnie’s mother. She is painted, not as a villain, but mother as an embarrassment, even though there’s so much more beneath the surface, something Minnie has yet to explore.
It is, however, the luminous Sophie Okonedo, as Helen, who shines with an aura throughout. Her warmth, her understanding, her overwhelming sadness, held in by the need to soldier on in a minefield of grief and collateral damage. Her Helen is the mother every child ever wished for. Her loss is palpable in ways that are indefinable. There is nothing that Sophie Okonedo cannot do or express with just her crooked smile or wide-eyed wonderment.
“Mouse” is a film whose many threads will wrap you up into the depths of despair and be overcome by the love that underpins life. I was swept up and think you will be too.
Opening November 6 at the Laemmle Royal.
Read this story on easyreadernews.com