While there are certainly a number of differences, throughout my viewing of Little Woods, I was reminded of Hell Or High Water. Both are films about troubled people living on the margins, suffering through the bleak landscape of post-recession America, making the tough choice to do something risky in order to bring some stability and safety when all other, more legitimate, avenues has closed their doors on them.
In this case, we have Ollie (Tessa Thompson), who has days left in her probation having been caught smuggling drugs across the Canadian border. This is how she supported her mother before she passed away, and now makes due selling food and coffee to day laborers while also trying to find work to satisfy her probation officer, Carter (Lance Reddick).
However, things get complicated when the bank threatens to foreclose on the house Ollie is trying to maintain, which she was also hoping to pass on to her sister, Deb (Lily James). She’s given one week to pay off the $6,000 she owes. Meanwhile, Deb faces struggles of her own when her illegally parked motor home is towed, leaving her and her son, Johnny (Charlie Ray Reid), without a home. She also finds out she is pregnant, but cannot afford to have another child working as a waitress.
While I made the comparison to Hell Or High Water, I should state that this isn’t some kind of action movie, it’s a far more modest crime drama that keeps the scope intimate and its drama quiet. However, even though it’s hardly action packed, it is packed with tension and a righteous fury that informs its indictment on American institutions that fail to help the marginalized. It refrains from being a message movie, often using the background and small details to speak volumes, which is very refreshing considering how a less tactful filmmaker might simply state things in an obvious way.
Which brings me to the writer and director of the film, Nia DaCosta. Her work here is damn impressive, especially for someone making her debut. It’s not necessarily some bold, swing-for-the-fences style that a lot of indie filmmakers tend to go for, it’s approach is very naturalistic and understated, and if her work hadn’t been as sharp and beautifully staged, it wouldn’t have been as effective as it is. She pays such careful attention to the character, how they navigate their surroundings, and the way certain feelings manifest in their actions. There’s so much being told with very little dialogue, and it makes for a really rich experience.
As you’d expect, both Tessa Thompson and Lily James are excellent here. There’s a warmth to their relationship that also balances with the kind of awkwardness that you’d have when two siblings have been estranged for a period of time. Every conversation they have together is magnetic, and their completely unglamorized look adds to the authenticity of their environment without the film ever veering into poverty porn territory. The supporting cast is just as strong with guys like James Badge Dale, who plays Deb’s ex-husband, Luke Kirby, who plays a sinister drug dealer, making a huge impression with brief scenes.
In a time when the phrase “economic anxiety” has largely served as a code for white residents of flyover states using their concerns to further racist ideologies, it’s great to see a film that actually explores a truthful examination of what it means to be struggling in America, and the things people are willing to do just to survive. Having a more feminine perspective also adds compelling layers to the story, especially as it deals with issues like women’s healthcare, which becomes a huge part of the story in the latter half. One thing I really appreciated about the film is that despite dealing with so much bleakness, it ends on a note that is surprisingly hopeful, and not naively so, and it earns that emotional beat so well. It’s thrilling, thoughtful, and deeply empathetic filmmaking all around. It’s elegantly performed, and sets up Nia DaCosta as a name to look out for.