To Leslie
To anyone who’s ever received a particularly good tax return and vowed to use it responsibly, only to blow it all on some previously unheard of household item, the opening of To Leslie should not come as a surprise. But in this feature directorial debut from Michael Morris (of Better Call Saul and Bloodline), more is at play than financial incompetence. Andrea Riseborough stars as Leslie, a single mum from West Texas who in the space of six years squanders every cent of a $190k (after taxes) lottery win and finds herself a self-imposed pariah who uses people and alcohol in equal measure. Inspired by screenwriter Ryan Binaco’s childhood experience, the story attempts to reconcile his understanding of his mother’s struggles with addiction and her absence for much of his youth. Morris opts for curiosity and realism over judgement in this simple but affecting film that is elevated by Riseborough’s outstanding transformation.
When questioned by a local news presenter on her intentions for her winnings, Leslie pledges, between hollered ‘woo’s and a promise to the townsfolk that drinks are on her, to “live a better life.” Her 13-year-old son James seems less enthused by the news than his mother. Six years pass unseen and Leslie is being kicked out of a motel despite her assertions that “no one pays on time”. She begs an old man with an oxygen tank to float her for the next month, but with no luck, bids the owner (and her audience of motel residents) an aggressive goodbye before scooping up her belongings into a pink suitcase and finding somewhere else to go.
Struggling, but in style.
‘Somewhere else’ is a bar where she meets a bunch of men and a stoop where she retreats the next day to nurse a black eye. At a literal low point, she has no choice but to call now 19-year-old James (Owen Teague) to come and rescue her. He allows her to stay in his shared apartment but there are some house rules to follow: she’s welcome for as long as it takes to formulate a life/lodgings plan, and there is to be absolutely no alcohol. Leslie agrees but as soon as James and his housemate Darren have gone to work, she rummages through drawers and pant pockets, finds some spare cash and heads to the corner store to buy two bottles of vodka. The clerk shoos her away when she starts chugging the first bottle (encased in a brown paper bag, of course) like a lost traveller happening upon water in the desert, but Leslie doesn’t care. She is content to play by society’s rules until she gets what she wants and not one second longer.
Leslie outstays her welcome with her son quite quickly after he finds discarded bottles under her mattress and her ‘entertaining’ his neighbours down the hall in exchange for booze. He makes a call and arranges for someone named Dutch to pick her up from the train station back home, shoving a handful of notes in her hand before bidding her adieu. Arriving at the home of Dutch (Stephen Root) and Nancy (Allison Janney), it’s apparent that these folks tired of her antics long ago and are helping her purely out of compassion for James. Morris doesn’t spell out Dutch and Nancy’s relationship to Leslie because he doesn’t need to; the frosty familiarity between the characters does the heavy lifting and allows the audience to draw their own conclusions. And since Leslie is a walking, talking reminder of history repeating, she soon finds herself and her pink suitcase on the wrong side of a locked door.
Just a lovely man doing the best he can.
After the dire set-up, we explore other facets of Leslie through the gentle eyes of Sweeney (Marc Maron), the manager of a sparsely populated motel not far from town. He does her the kindness of ‘mistaking’ her for a woman who has allegedly been calling about a housekeeping job, offering it to her on the spot before Leslie can even properly go along with the ruse. Working alongside Sweeney and his eccentric co-owner Royal (Andre Royo), Leslie takes the first step in changing her ways, finding purpose in her responsibilities at the motel and hope in the abandoned ice cream shop across the train tracks. It’s a simple story with a conventional progression that resolves a little too neatly, but there’s real humanity to be found in the makeshift family dynamic between the trio.
Shot over 19 days during Covid and grossing about the value of a Camry during its limited release in the US, To Leslie is an example of what (celebrity) word of mouth can do. Gaining a surprise nomination for Riseborough that left Sir Oscar absolutely shook, there was a brief inquiry into the validity of her Best Actress nomination before the story simmered down. For the two people left in the world who still think the Academy Awards matter, perhaps the grassroots tactics were shady and therefore render Riseborough disqualified in their minds. For everyone who’s actually seen the film, her recognition is entirely deserved.
Consistently pumping out phenomenal and varied work (particularly in Possessor and Mandy), Riseborough’s quietly confident portrayal of a woman who feels tangibly authentic is front and centre of the film’s strengths. Like a muted Nic Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, Leslie is a potential life ruiner who has spent a good chunk of her own starting with number one. The kind of person that takes a mile when given an inch, Leslie’s behaviour is dictated by her addiction, and her ability to manipulate and fuck over does not discriminate between the deserving and the well-meaning. She suffers through reluctant withdrawals without the fuss normally required to display it on screen and brilliantly embodies that rowdy person in the bar who people tolerate out of pity and bizarre fascination until it becomes a bit old.
When a song comes on that rudely describes your exact situation.
I had conflicted feelings towards Leslie throughout the film - empathy, disgust, hope, frustration - but what I enjoyed most about watching her were the subtle changes in her persona based on her surroundings. Her armour is up and braced in the vicinity of Nancy, who seems to go out of her way to punish Leslie for past behaviours, and stripped when she’s shown by Sweeney that it’s not necessary. Maron’s role was initially meant for John Hawkes and while I adore that man, the chemistry between he and Riseborough is testament to things working out for a reason. While Riseborough is the star of this affair, Maron does beautiful work in bringing his own hurts and experiences to Sweeney, somehow making him the most precious, wholly good presence in the film despite a past littered with similar darkness.
While To Leslie sometimes feels like it’s just going beat to beat (its director’s history in TV perhaps showing), it’s a vision of simple America that feels incredibly realistic and lived-in. This is an uncomplicated film featuring beautifully complicated characters that celebrates their quirks and treats their struggles with due consideration. Riseborough’s layered performance really is as good as they say and if her inclusion in the big race means anything, it’s that good work deserves to be seen on the big screen wherever possible.
Verdict: ☆☆☆☆
To Leslie is playing early in Luna’s Advance Previews at Leederville and SX on Monday March 6th, before hitting cinemas March 9.
