(Fearless leader Ed Travis wrote a great review of this film out of Fantastic Fest this year.)
Sweetheart is a teeny-tiny little movie that deserves all the attention it can possibly receive. It’s easy for any movie to get buried beneath the algorithmic piling on that is Netflix, but that risk of exponentially greater for something like Sweetheart, without any kind of awards pedigree or giant star to merit a spot at the top of the home-screen.
So please watch Sweetheart. Make it your next movie night pick. Or your group activity night/date night/oh God I feel so alone and I need something to chase away the demons night, whatever. Because if you’re a genre fan, you no doubt have spent at least some time plunging through deep reserves of mediocrity because you know that even in the most mediocre of creature features and low budget exercises, there might be something (a performance, a sequence, hell, one really killer shot) that gives you the endorphin rush that no other entertainment can. I actively disliked pretty much all of Wolfen, but I still tell every horror fan to watch it if for no other reason than it has maybe the best decapitation in cinema history.
But sometimes, in all that mediocrity, you get your hands on something that just gets the job done. Maybe it’s a new film, or a new discovery of an older film, but suddenly someone has come along and added something new and vital to the ever-expanding boundaries of the genre. It’s the “oh my God, how did no one ever think of that?!?!” high concept that gets perfectly executed, the exciting new voice breathing new life and new perspective into familiar forms, the lead performance and character that immediately enters the canon, the monster that makes you sit up and go, ‘How did they pull that off?’
A movie that hit any one of those targets would be immediately hailed as a marvelous discovery.
Sweetheart does ’em all.
The set-up is simplicity itself: Jenn (Kiersey Clemons) washes up on the shore of a desert island following a shipwreck. The only other survivor dies very shortly thereafter, leaving her completely alone. Jenn sets out to gather resources and begin the tasks of survival and somehow finding rescue. But very quickly, a complication ensues: There’s a monster in the water. And it’s big, and it’s hungry, and it’s not going away anytime soon.
Writer-director J.D. Dillard quickly establishes a key rule of the creature that has Jenn trapped: It only comes out a night. So during the day she recovers, strategizes, and tries out different plans to either evade or dispatch the creature, and when night falls all kinds of mayhem are fair game. That kind of structure could quickly get repetitive and boring (you know she’s safe during the day, so you relax, which is not necessarily what you want from a horror film) but Dillard’s focus on methodology creates a feeling of momentum so the pacing never slacks. Any idea you might have for how to deal with this situation, Jenn is going to try, and watching as good idea after good idea falls apart only helps the tension mount. It establishes both how resourceful and clever (and sometimes ruthless) our heroine is, and how dire her circumstances truly are.
None of this works without Clemons, who is terrific throughout. With little in the way of dialogue and no co-star except a special effect, she holds the screen like an absolute star. She is never anything less than magnetic, and with nothing but her performance allows you to understand and track Jenn’s evolving mental and emotional state. For as little as you know about this character, you invest in her completely, every cut and slash of the creature registering because you know exactly how much work goes into recovering from every setback, minor or major.
The creature itself is another standout aspect of the film. The first shot that reveals its presence is an instant classic, just a gorgeously composed and executed reveal. For much of the film, Dillard takes the venerable approach of revealing it only in bits and pieces, with sound design carrying much of the weight. When you see the thing in full, it’s a strong mix of practical elements with some CG enhancements. You get enough face-time with the beast to feel well-served, but sparing enough that it still feels mysterious and monstrous. And there’s a lengthy, sublime underwater sequence that must have stretched the film’s small budget to the breaking point but results in some instantly-iconic moments and images.
Sweetheart is so good, it even pulls off a move that has tripped up a number of similar films.
Depending on your spoiler threshold, you might want to skip this section.
The go-to move for many a “one isolated person vs. overwhelming threat” movie is always to bring in more people about half-way through, and it almost always sucks. I Am Legend spun out into nonsense once those fucking kids showed up, Riddick got exponentially less cool once Vin Diesel had to deal with the bounty hunters, the list goes on. Hell, even a stone-cold classic like Evil Dead II flags a bit (a bit, to be clear) once it moves away from the purity of Bruce Campbell vs. a demon-possessed cabin trying to kill him and starts bringing in other people for him to talk to.
So when at almost the exact midpoint of Sweetheart a raft bearing some other fucking jokers showed up, I did initially wince, thinking the film had finally thrown in the towel and bowed to the necessity of the formula.
But far from sinking the film, this pivot actually solidifies what makes it special. In particular, the moment when the reason for the movie’s title is revealed is one of those magical “theme=character=story” moments that suddenly clarifies a film’s voice and identity. Sweetheart, a film starring a bi-racial woman and directed by a black man, is ultimately a film about having your fears ignored and your pain dismissed. It transforms the battle for survival into a battle also for recognition, for the right to have your experiences believed and identity validated.
Like I said at the top, Sweetheart is a small film. I’m not sure how Blumhouse picks which films it’s going to put money into getting in front of people, and which ones it’s going to shuttle off to the side, but it’s too bad that Sweetheart got a shrug of a theatrical release (day-and-date with a VOD drop) and then plopped onto Netflix with little fanfare. I guess Ma took up all the oxygen?
The only reason I knew to look for the film was because people on the interwebs, including Mr. Travis, got vocal about it, so here is me paying it forward. The next time you have 80 minutes handy, watch Sweetheart and enjoy a ride that is successful at being both scary and funny, that plays out with a completely straight face but also a gratifying sense of play and just the barest hint of a wink. It’s a horror movie that serves as a welcome reminder of how fun a good horror movie can be, especially when smart filmmakers invest in at least one show-stopping effect rather than just having invisible ghosts punt shit again.
Sweetheart is special. I know you’ll agree, but after you find out how right I am (and I am) you need to take the next step and spread the word as well. These are the kind of special little films that only exist because folks get loud.
So go get loud.