Film Review: Saint Frances

While on the surface, Saint Frances seems like a run-of-the-mill indie dramedy complete with a directionless thirty-something lead, dry humor, a precocious child, and nods to weighty, topical ideas. But what makes Saint Frances work is how strongly and earnestly those elements that might seem trite in most other productions come across as effective and truthful. It utilizes its conventional skeleton to explore its characters and their relationships with a great deal of empathy and insight. And it’s most certainly a more relatable story about being a young, aimless person in the world than Endings, Beginnings, which I reviewed earlier this week.

The directionless thirty-something in this case is one Bridget (Kelly O’Sullivan). She did one year at Northwestern University, has no home, works a thankless job as a waiter, and is recently getting out of a fling she had with a man almost a decade younger than her. The result of that encounter resulted in an unexpected pregnancy that she decides to terminate. She has nothing going on, and despite her annoyance at her current position in life, she seems to resist any call for change and growth, making herself continue the same cycle.

However, things begin to change when she takes up a job being a nanny for an interracial lesbian couple, Maya (Charin Alvarez) and Annie (Lily Mojekwu), out in the Chicago suburbs. Maya is dealing with the birth of a baby boy, and needs help with six-year-old Frances (Ramona Edith Williams). Annie is unable to get time off work to help raise the family, and Maya is herself struggling with postpartum depression. These two forces, given that they are emotions left undiscussed, results in some conflict between the couple. In the meantime, Bridget initially struggles with Frances, but slowly develops a strong bond, in which the experience gives Bridget some much needed perspective.

Directed by Alex Thompson and written by Kelly O’Sullivan, the film carries itself with a very light touch. It moves in a leisurely pace, its stakes are largely mundane and understated, and the moments of conflict between the characters don’t result in any bombastic or melodramatic gestures. It’s a feel-good film through and through, and it accomplishes just that. Its whole aura is quietly pleasant and gentle in its observations on the way we connect with one another and support one another through personal hardships.

The film certainly touches on heavy things like abortion, marital problems, and the microaggressions that women and members of the LGBTQ community are constantly dealing with. But with its pleasant atmosphere, it prevents the film as a whole from feeling like a downer. In fact, the film uses those moments of emotional weight to empathize with the characters, and offer them space to heal and grow in a way that feels deeply real, without judgement, and free from the required mechanics of a typical narrative.

If I had to nitpick about something, it would just be with one thing. While Bridget is certainly an engaging lead, I found myself far more interested in the dynamic between Maya and Annie, and I wished the film focused more on their relationship. That doesn’t mean the film pushes their story aside, but it does have to share its space with Bridget’s arc, which is the main focus. There’s something fresh about seeing a couple like them dealing with fairly typical marital problems without emphasizing them being lesbians. Given that Annie is out of the house so much, and Maya keeps struggling under the weight of her responsibilities, Annie begins to believe that Maya might be cheating on her. Of course, it isn’t the case, that’s hardly a spoiler, but seeing the way they dealt with this little thread made me more invested in them, and I wish we could get a bigger look into their lives. But that is just me asking for a different movie entirely, which isn’t fair to something that is already so likable.

I don’t know if I can say I necessarily loved Saint Frances, at least compared to the high praise given by my peers, but I do like the film a lot, and I can see why it had an impact on those who have seen it and loved it. It’s a thoroughly delightful watch, full of charming performances from the entire cast, especially from little Ramona Edith Williams. Kelly O’Sullivan makes a strong impression, not only as a lead, but also as a writer. Her scripting here is smart, thoughtful, and incredibly witty, and Alex Thompsons’ gentle direction gives plenty of room for the characters and the banter to shine through. The ending packs an emotional punch that I’m still recovering from as I write this, and I can’t wait to see what she does next. The film may not ultimately provide a lot of clear answers as to where things will go, there is a sense of hope and optimism that I think is more impactful than I think even the filmmakers could have ever anticipated, and if you need a pick-me-up, I can’t imagine anything more well suited for that than this.