“Hard Truths” Stagnates in Gloom
Written by: Christopher Llewellyn Reed | January 10th, 2025
Hard Truths (Mike Leigh, 2024) 2½ out of 5 stars
The British actress Marianne Jean-Baptiste (The Book of Clarence) is a powerhouse performer, bringing deep wells of emotion to each role and transforming herself as required. Deservedly Oscar-nominated for her previous collaboration with director Mike Leigh—the 1996 Secrets & Lies—she approaches the new part he has given her in his latest, Hard Truths, with sincerity and commitment. It’s unfortunate that the script is not up to the task of supporting her efforts.
Jean-Baptiste plays Pansy, a married middle-aged woman who is suffering from what can only be the most severe of depressions, even if this medical issue is never once mentioned overtly. Angry at the world, she lashes out at everyone around her, including her husband, her twenty-something son (who seems almost equally despondent), and her sister, though the latter, Chantelle (Michele Austin, The Children Act) is so full of joy that there’s no bringing her down. The contrast between the two homes, with Chantelle’s adult daughters very much like their mother, could not be more different.
The narrative follows the fraught interactions in which Pansy engages inside and outside the house, as well as Chantelle’s attempted intervention. There are many reasons, genetic and otherwise, that pull people into mental-health crises, and we never learn if Pansy has always been this way or if her condition has progressed over time. Certainly, the state of Moses (Tuwaine Barrett, Back to Black), her much put-upon child, would indicate that this is not a new circumstance, and that he takes very much after his mother. The larger question might be that of why Curtley (David Webber, also The Children Act), her husband—whom she appears to despise—continues to stick around. There is no evidence of any love between them.
As a study of a mood disorder, Hard Truths has individually strong scenes to offer. The moments between Pansy and Chantelle are often filled with grace, so forceful are the two women separately and together. But the trajectory of the story proves extremely frustrating, given that nothing truly changes beyond a slow march towards even worse outcomes. Not even the sequences featuring Kayla (Ani Nelson) and Aleisha (Sophia Brown, Dead Shot), Chantelle’s two kids—full of laughter—can mitigate the incessant gloom.
There’s nothing wrong with mournful filmmaking, nor with open-ended plots, but the structure of the screenplay is such that the characters refuse to develop. We watch the conversations unfold, hoping for some evolution, but it is all for naught. The truths on display are not only hard, but bitter, unpleasant, and difficult to swallow.