Review: Stories We Tell

Canadian actress-filmmaker and critical darling Sarah Polley looks inward to her own family, and in particular the story behind her conception and the story of her mother, who died when Sarah was 11. In an attempt to understand the actress mother she lost at quite a young age, Sarah learns her mum lived quite a colourful life, and her family’s story as she knows it, might not be entirely accurate and all-encompassing.

 

This 2013 supposed documentary from filmmaker Sarah Polley infuriated me to no end. The reasons for this mean that this review will be spoiler city, so if ever there was a review to leave until after you’ve seen the film, it’s this one. The spoiler information is definitely the main talking point. So those of you yet to see the film…well, I really think you needn’t bother seeing it, but if you must, CEASE READING.

 

Now that we’re alone, let me count the ways I hated this film. I’ll get to the spoilers right away, actually. This isn’t your typical documentary, because Polley for some wanky artistic reason (i.e. She’s probably a big fan of Orson Welles’ frankly shameful and pointless “F for Fake”) has decided to fake a bunch of home movie footage of her family. There’s some real stuff in there, and a lot of the fake stuff is pretty obvious even if you don’t notice that the mother seems to change appearance throughout the film. I mean, it’s awfully bloody convenient that Polley has access to the right footage for the right moment every single time, don’t you think? I understand that Polley wanted to avoid mere talking heads and all, but the fact is, she is not open and upfront about this fake footage. Yes, it’s pretty damn obvious, but we only have it revealed for us at the end, and I became enraged. (Apparently one brief scene near the end exposes the ruse, but for the life of me I don’t recall seeing it. Are there different cuts of the film? And even if the scene does exist, why reveal the ruse like that instead of making it clear from the outset? There’s really no justification for it). So much so that it made me question whether anything in this film was real or not, which I don’t really think was the intention. I mean, this is a film that after all not only credits ‘actors’ from the ‘home movie’ footage, but is ‘Written and Directed by Sarah Polley’. Yes, written. She even has her own father provide narration for parts of the film that he apparently wrote, but how do we know it wasn’t Polley herself? After all, she apparently wrote the film, whatever the hell that means.

 

I also found the interviews between Polley and her various siblings to be rather questionable even before I found out what the deal with the film was. Apparently these were her real siblings, but there seemed to be a strange disconnect between them to me that I was questioning. Where was the anger? There’s a lot to be angry about here, but everyone seems so detached. Maybe her family really do relate like that, or perhaps Polley was trying to play a dispassionate interviewer, but this is the same Sarah Polley who guides her dad through the recording of his narration and has a bunch of frankly irritating reaction shots of herself with a knowing smile. The mixture of detachment and obvious self-indulgence is really perplexing, but watch the film and tell me that’s not how it plays out. Hell, the film is really a re-enactment, as Polley already knew about most of the material in the film before making the film, which makes it seem fake and stupid. She’s reacting to stuff like it’s new to her, when it really isn’t.

 

I felt cheated by this film, to be honest. Having said all that, the narrative device stuff for me was the only halfway interesting thing in the film, which is otherwise a boring and useless story with supposedly shocking familial revelations that…aren’t remotely shocking nor terribly interesting. Why would anyone outside of her family care about any of this stuff? And why on Earth are you painting your mother as the Whore of Babylon? Yes, I’m exaggerating, but c’mon, tell me you’re not thinking the same thing! I don’t think this film honours her mother’s memory at all. The revelations here about paternity and infidelity are TV talk show fodder from decades ago, not 2013. Sure, it’s kind of notable that Polley’s mother was the first woman in Canada to lose child custody in divorce proceedings, but other than that? Yawn. I’m sure this is all very fascinating and significant for her family, but for me I found it entirely useless. For the most part, Polley’s family come across as your typical quirky actor-parent family. There’s a few uncomfortable moments here and there like the grown-up kids referring to their mother’s sex life, or dad telling Polley that she was almost aborted. But these things aren’t emphasised with any particular importance or significance. Forget all the filmmaking trickery and deception, why did Polley think this material was important enough to be a movie? My guess is that Polley’s ego is such that she thinks a film that, at the end of the day, is by her and about the truth behind her conception, is super important and will totally cure cancer and end geopolitical conflicts across the globe. Once again, look at her oh-so self-absorbed reaction shots like some nodding, dorky TV journo who thinks their puff piece is deep and profound. Yes, it’s all about you, sweetie. Aren’t you just the most special thing that ever was and ever will be? And people accuse Michael Moore of being self-serving and egotistical…geez. At least his films have a clear and interesting point or two to make, and some societal relevance (Albeit slanted).

 

The way this story is told, infuriating and dubious as it may be, is more interesting than the story itself which let’s face it, isn’t too far removed from a lot of families. Do they all deserve a film made about them? “Capturing the Friedmans” this ain’t. Who cares if someone had an affair? That’s not newsworthy in the post-“Jerry Springer” era, let alone film-worthy. Wanting to think outside the box of what people normally think of a documentary being is one thing, but this…I don’t even know what the hell this is except a profoundly irritating, dull, and for me completely useless vanity project for Sarah Polley. Polley says it’s a film about all of us, but there was no reason I could see for me to take any interest in it. Sweetie, it’s a film by you, about your conception. That’s all. And even if the memory thing was your intention, there’s not much of a difference in the stories being told, particularly within her family, for that to be valid, really. No, this one bored and infuriated me in equal measure.

 

Structurally it’s unique, but the story is unsurprising and uninteresting. It may have been important for Polley to uncover all of this, but there was no reason I could see for me to take any interest in it. I really didn’t get it, but maybe you will.

 

Rating: D