by Jon Partridge
The Other Half tells of two wounded people meeting and finding peace in one another. It’s familiar subject matter for a film to explore, but this debut feature from Joey Klein sets itself apart by marrying an impressive directorial approach to some affecting performances from stars Tatiana Maslany (Orphan Black, Woman in Gold) and Tom Cullen (Weekend, Black Mirror) in a beguiling look at how mental illness affects and informs a relationship.
Nickie (Cullen) is a man overwhelmed by depression after the loss of his younger brother several years earlier, putting a wall up around himself, only breaking through to lash out at the people and world around him. He encounters a woman named Emily (Maslany) who breaks through his depression to give him a new outlook on life. His newfound peace is disrupted when Emily is soon overwhelmed by her bipolar disorder and retreats from the relationship. Months later, the pair reunite and together start to build a fragile life together.
While a film of this nature could take the path often traveled and explore the conflict between two people carrying such emotional baggage, The Other Half instead chooses a more nuanced course, exploring how this pair function better as a unit. A transient peace forms, Emily’s stability being the fulcrum of their situation, a soothing influence to the angry, grief-ridden psyche of Nickie, who in turn takes on the responsibility of ensuring her mental well being.
With its weightier content, the film adopts an effective tone, never escalating into anything too saccharine or melodramatic. A fiery early courtship gives way to quiet contentment, occasionally intruded upon by fluctuations in mood or outside events. As if Emily’s fragility isn’t enough to undermine this ill-fated coupling, the reveal that her mother committed suicide due to the same condition hangs over the film like a cloud, giving it and the relationship a palpable sense of tragedy.
For the most part, Klein lets the actors do their work, but at times infuses the piece with slightly abstract direction, using some visual trickery to subtly connect us to Nickie’s thought processes, like blurred images, flashbacks, and lines of dialogue bleeding from one scene into another. Nickie’s own mental state essentially serves as a barometer for Emily’s.
Cullen begins the film by channeling a jarring level of brooding and aggression but soon adopts a more nuanced performance, conveying his control issues, depression, and eventually affection for Emily. He’s at his best here playing off a foil, be it Maslany’s Emily or even his estranged parents. A series of overseas phone calls reveals both his pain as well as a more endearing side through some effective banter. Maslany, perhaps unsurprisingly after her stellar work in Orphan Black, hits the perfect note in her portrayal of Emily, a woman who shifts from being a vivacious, free spirit one moment, to someone uncomfortable in her own skin the next. The real life couple channel their connection into something that truly resonates on the screen. The focus is obviously on the pair, but Klein wisely weaves their parents into the tale. Henry Czerny and Nancy Palk add a tremendous amount to proceedings with minimal screentime and are vital to one of the more harrowing moments of the film when Emily’s skipping of her meds precipitates an breakdown. It’s a crucial component to convey how mental illness takes a toll, not just on an individual but also their loved ones.
The Other Half stands as an accomplished debut feature for Klein. Putting genuine and affecting performances front and center, characters brought to life by the impressive talents of Maslany and Cullen. It’s a respectful and composed piece that deftly explores mental illness as well as the simple solace that can be found between two people who make a connection.
