30 Sep TIFF REVIEW – ‘All My Puny Sorrows’ feels more literary than cinematic

Trigger warning: this review discusses topics including suicide, depression, and self-harm.

Book adaptations are a tricky beast to conquer. Stick too closely to the source material and you run the risk of presenting something that feels like little more than a narration of the text. Stray too far from what came before and you’re likely to frustrate those expecting a faithful interpretation. Writer-director Michael McGowan‘s adaptation of Miriam Toews’ semi-autobiographical 2014 novel All My Puny Sorrows falls into the former in a film that feels more literary than cinematic.

For fans of Toews’ award-winning book, that may not necessarily be a bad thing. However, it does cause the film to languish in extended monologues that rarely feel like authentic dialogue seen on screen. It’s almost akin to experiencing a book reading where you often feel at a distance from the subject matter being narrated to you. Scenes play like stilted tableaux vivants that don’t quite organically flow into each other. But McGowan deploys a terrific ensemble cast to bring these moments to life and therein lies this film’s true success.

The film focuses on two deeply connected sisters who have long since left behind their strict Mennonite upbringing in rural Ontario. Struggling writer Yoli (Alison Pill) is in the midst of the collapse of her marriage and the challenges that arise from raising her daughter, Nora (Amybeth McNulty). Her sister, Elf (Sarah Gadon) is an acclaimed concert pianist, though she grapples with mental health issues like her father, Jake (Donal Logue), who died by suicide years prior.

After Elf attempts suicide for a second time, Yoli returns to her hometown in an attempt to save her sister from the same fate as her father. But upon her arrival, Yoli is shocked to find Elf seems resigned to death and even expresses a desire to journey to Switzerland where assisted suicide is legal. Stuck in the middle of the sisters’ battles is their beleaguered mother, Lottie (Mare Winningham), who put walls up around her emotions after the death of her husband.

As you can likely surmise, All My Puny Sorrows deals with some heavy and highly delicate topics. Just like this review, it’s the kind of film that could (and should) include a trigger warning. Thankfully, McGowan deals with such subject matter with the sensitivity and dignity it demands. Elf is a pertinent portrait of modern-day depression. She’s beautiful, successful, and highly intelligent. Yet, she’s plagued by the same darkness that ultimately claimed her father’s life.

As someone who’s lived in her talented sister’s shadow her entire life, Yoli is naturally frustrated Elf is so determined to end her life when she has achieved so much and seemingly has so much to live for. But that’s the part of depression some simply cannot understand. The only person who could truly understand Elf’s suffering is her late father who also had immeasurable gifts in his life but couldn’t escape the black cloud constantly hovering overhead.

The film wisely never demonises Elf for having such dark thoughts. It’s an earnest depiction of mental health that innately understands the complexities and contradictions of such a debilitating illness. McGowan’s screenplay allows Yoli to be the critical voice of audience members who equally may not comprehend how someone so blessed could be so willing to leave this world well before their time.

These are two vastly different sisters who look at the world in wildly different ways. And, evidently, that’s always been a cause of contention between the two. Years of bottled-up tension finally gives way in a fiery, scream-filled argument that eventually allows Yoli and Elf the ability to see what they do share; deep-seated pain. It’s only through the exploration of each other’s trauma they finally begin to speak the same language and the reconciliation can begin.

Yoli is a textbook example of a once-promising young woman who just can’t seem to make anything work. She refuses to sign her divorce papers as a childish way of pretending her marriage isn’t over. Her writing has never found anything close to success. She can’t seem to connect with her moody teenage daughter. And she’s pointlessly having a fling with a man (Michael Musi) she has zero interest in. It’s no wonder she’s exacerbated at her flourishing sister’s desire to end it all.

Pill is perfectly cast as a character one can only describe as a total hot mess. For those of us with our own successful siblings, Yoli will be a role we easily empathise with. It’s a deeply nuanced performance that’s full of raw emotions in a character who’s desperately attempting to fix her family while struggling to avoid a total mental breakdown. Yoli’s pent-up frustration finally explodes in a parking lot scene that’s as oddly comedic as it is unnerving. Pill brings her natural gift for self-deprecation to Yoli, which injects some much-needed levity into such a dour narrative.

Gadon is equally impressive in a layered performance that deftly captures the detachment of depression and the fragility of someone constantly teetering on the edge of suicide. It’s an understated turn, but Gadon calmly captures Elf’s quiet resolve with ease. Her immediate chemistry with Pill is genuine and engaging and their interactions ground this film from its penchant for verbal theatrics. Winningham is used sparingly, but she consistently steals focus as a woman clearly still grieving her husband and lost as to how to save her daughter from a similar fate.

All My Puny Sorrows almost falls apart in its screenplay’s inability to break from the bookish nature of its origin. The dialogue often feels inorganic by virtue of being loaded with literary references or recitals of entire poems that rarely sound like authentic conversations human beings would have. These script choices often feel at odds with the plot and often pull you out of the emotions we’re meant to be feeling. It’s all too over-stylised and keeps the audience at a distance when it should be pulling you in closer.

It’s obvious McGowan is a fan of Toews’ novel and avoided heavily adapting her words. But this is cinema and such changes need to occur for a film to truly soar. All My Puny Sorrows winds up drowning in its own words and loses some of its potential emotional impact. But the stirring performances of Pill and Gadon elevate the screenplay in what is ultimately a sublime showcase for their impressive talents. It’s a film that’s brave enough to tackle some heady, relevant subject matter that will undoubtedly (and sadly) ring true for far too many.