No Virgin Mary

We’ve been seeing a lot of this in cinema lately: A young or at least youngish woman, a millennial or cusping thereabouts, intelligent but adrift, overeducated but underemployed, a rebel with a cause but also deeply concerned with how she fits in the world, comes to a reckoning that is no less turbulent and life-altering for being unspectacular, at least to all outward appearances.

The key signature of these movies is minor and comic, with a worn edge of weary feminism, as though years of rage and warfare have led not to surrender but to a kind of wisdom often mistaken for cynicism. As Bridget (Kelly O’Sullivan) blurts out near the end of Saint Frances, the hedged but impactful debut by director Alex Thompson: “Why am I crying? I’m an agnostic feminist!”

It’s one of the best moments in a film full of wry left jabs at the crisis of modern womanhood, not just as it’s experienced but as it’s expressed in endless movies that flag themselves, sometimes a bit too overtly, as curatives to that crisis.

Played expertly by O’Sullivan, Bridget is a 34-year-old college dropout who, at romantic and financial loose ends, applies for a summer job nannying the 6-year-old daughter (the fantastic Ramona Edith Williams as Frances) of an upper-middle-class lesbian couple (Lily Mojekwu and Charin Alvarez) with a newborn son.

A smart comedy with a dark, but not too dark, streak, Saint Frances never resorts to being an issue movie, though it’s loaded with issues, including Bridget’s abortion, which provides a narrative undercurrent that never bursts into an oversized political flare.

In fact, the balance brought to bear on what we call “women’s issues” is the chief pleasure of the film. O’Sullivan wrote the screenplay, and she brings a balance of tenderness and frankness to her character’s concerns — including menstrual blood, which courses and spots and stains throughout the film like its own subplot — that is quietly revolutionary and often hilarious.

The ironic force of the movie, and what sparks much of its comedy, is that Bridget is anything but a saint. As befits her character, she’s a big-hearted fuck-up slouching toward redemption, and despite her verbal diarrhea and romantic blundering, she’s sharp enough to learn from her mistakes. That’s good enough, and director Thompson keeps his gaze gentle, finding subtle rhythms in the narrative that give us the feeling of eavesdropping intimately on Frances’ life, rather than being exposed to it.

Would that there were more movies like this, ones that treat their female leads as flawed, complex, three-dimensional people subjected not just to being “women” but to being fully realized human beings. In this regard, Saint Frances quietly extends its reach into the great hidden and largely unspoken subject of class in American life and how it operates not just on women but between them as well.

Sly, funny and authentically heartwarming, Saint Frances is at once a diversion from our troubled times and a look right into its deepest realities. In its lead character, we find the lost-generation portrait of a 30-something that is at once familiar in its trappings and new in its emotional resonance. It’s only when you stop laughing that you realize how quietly, disarmingly brave it all is.

Saint Frances, along with a host of other titles, is being offered through Broadway Metro’s Virtual Cinema program, which allows you to watch new releases at home. You can also order popcorn and growlers for delivery. For more information, visit BroadwayMetro.com.

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.

None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.

Thank you for standing with us!