I very quickly realized that this movie would be "Sean Baker-lite," and my hypothesis proved correct. Just like Quentin Tarantino spawned a lot of pale imitators in the late 90s, TO LESLIE seems to be a naturalistic take on American poverty riding on the success of superior films like THE FLORIDA PROJECT, TANGERINE, and RED ROCKET. But what exactly does it mean to be "Sean Baker-lite," I wonder? Why are his films searing and powerful while this above average movie simply seems predictable and at times boring?
I don't think it has to do with the casting. My first thought was that casting a classically trained British actress, an Oscar-winning A-lister, a Jersey Jew, and, for lack of a better word, Stephen Root as a bunch of small town Texans was part of the problem--and perhaps it is--but I don't think "authentic local casting" is a necessity or a solution. The fantastic LEAN ON PETE grippingly tackled similar themes despite starring many recognizable non-rural faces like Steve Buscemi, while the extremely similar film LEAVE NO TRACE seemed "less real" to me despite having a supporting cast rounded out by local non-actors. And I'm still not sure why Chloé Zhao's THE RIDER, which has no actors at all, feels "staged" to me while her film NOMADLAND, which plops a Method-acting Frances McDormand in the midst of a bunch of real people who don't realize she's an actress, is a masterpiece. Whatever the case may be for why To Leslie falls short of these other films, casting doesn't seem to be the problem.
I think perhaps the real fault lies in the moral compass of this film. Don't get me wrong--I'm happy to see that this film makes a case for forgiveness, redemption, and the ultimate patient goodness of some people. But it also plunges into that thesis in a very clean and obvious way. Within ten minutes of this (overlong) movie, you'll know pretty much everything that's going to happen; when I first saw Marc Maron on screen, I had almost crystal ball clarity of every remaining scene in the film. Andrea Riseborough's acting as the titular Leslie is wonderful, but her character is a little too pitiable and not quite nasty enough. Even before the opening credit sequence is over, you've seen her with a black eye presumably given to her by a handsome man (an outcome which is repeated yet again very early in the plot). We see her suffering the consequences of her actions from the very beginning, and although she commits some misdeeds on camera out of desperation, we never see her do anything truly unlikeable. Our sympathies are always with her. There's very little revulsion to overcome. Thus, it seems a foregone conclusion that the movie will find a happy ending for her, and it seems to easy to see the actions of characters like the one played by Stephen Root as cruel and unproductive. The film has shades of gray, for sure, but the characterization seems far simpler than the rampant ugliness sometimes on display Bria Vinaite in The Florida Project, Simon Rex in Red Rocket, or Mya Taylor in Tangerine.
In order for a film about forgiveness and redemption to work, I guess, we also have to be in a position where we need to understand and accept something unlikeable about the character. To Leslie is far too sympathetic to its protagonist for this story arc to ultimately be effective, which is a shame given that the story hinges around a truly horrible thing that she did in the past but which we never see. When this horrible act is confronted in the climax of the film, the movie comes close to achieving its goals, but the choice to never fully display the flaws of her character on screen in a way that might actually make us condemn her results in a story in which it's far too easy for us to forgive her. And perhaps that moral simplicity is what makes this "Sean Baker-lite."
This is a decent film, and the solid acting and uplifting story make it worth the watch. It never quite rises to the level of being a great film, however.
