Maudie

The great Sally Hawkins gives such a full-bodied, theatrical performance in Maud, the 2016 drama directed by Aisling Walsh, that one anticipates she will abruptly shout "Acting!" the way John Lovitz used to on Saturday Night Live. Hawkins is the title character, Maud Lewis, the Canadian folk artist whose famous work mostly included outdoor scenes and some of which was purchased by Richard Nixon. As Maud, she is not ignorant of how her rheumatoid arthritis makes her sort of peculiar in the eyes of others. "Some people don't like it if you're different," she says at one point. From the very first moments we see her, she is required to express a variety of emotions within a matter of minutes: hope, anger, disappointment, desperation. And yet, it's not a particularly impressive performance in a fairly bad, overrated film.

Maud lives alone with her aunt (her parents have passed away and her brother essentially has abandoned her), and the two don't appear to get along too much, to the point where she does not to try it out on her own. There she meets Everett a rather shy, impulsive, fisherman prone to angry outbursts with little provocation. He also works at an orphanage, a place in which a man of such temper probably shouldn't work. Everett is played by Ethan Hawke, who channels his inner modern-day Harrison Ford disgruntlement and whose acting choices in the film more or less mirror those of Hawkins. His entrance serves as a rather creepy set up for a sort-of romantic pairing. Everett needs a housekeeper and Maud needs a home, so they agree to have her be hired. The following abusive dynamic between them is not dissimilar to what was depicted in last year's Phantom Thread. Everett insists that they share a bread to prove she's not a princess and barks at her when the floor is not perfectly cleaned. Maud laughs off rumors that she's his romantic partner or sex slave, while Everett slaps her if she tells a stranger the home is comfy. He is more concerned that she talks when he believes she's not supposed to over the fact that she has begun painting all over the walls of the house. He is abusive, to say the least, in so many ways. But he gets his redemption, so if the redemption arc in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri infuriated you, avoid Maudie.

Everett and Maud do decide to get married, and her aunt believes that Maud is the only one in their family who ended up happy. This might partly due to Maud's success as a painter. Maud Lewis was a real-life figure, and one in which the audience is to inherently root for. Maud's painting continues to become an important part of her identity, and she and Everett begin to sell them, though she doesn't make much for them. Everett's attitude remains that he is the one doing all the work, and he is never really admiring of her work. All of these segments are portrayed sort of as playful banter, which adds to the discomfort, in my opinion. There are no small performances in this movie, but no good ones, either. Even if there were, it wouldn't help, as the second half is unbelievably boring.