Maudie (2017)

Film: Maudie (2017)
Stars: Sally Hawkins, Ethan Hawke, Kari Matchett, Gabrielle Rose
Director: Aisling Walsh
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Adult dramas, one without frills or packaging, are rare these days when they're well-done.  Too often we find ourselves stuck with either dramas with comedic undertones (the old lady who has to find her self-worth through indulging in marijuana or listening to rap music) or are soggy come-from-behind tales without any sense of reality to them (nearly every music drama ever made).  As a result, a movie like Maudie, which was an arthouse hit but has largely gone unnoticed as we count the best films of 2017, should be a bit more treasured than it is.  Quiet, unassuming, introverted, but still brimming with strong work from the two lead actors and the rare biopic that goes off of its traditional story beats, Maudie is a lovely look into the world of famed folk artist Maud Lewis, played by Sally Hawkins.

(I know it's real life so I don't need this, but she's so unknown to most outside of the art community that I'm going to issue the Spoiler Alert Anyway) The film centers around a socially awkward woman with arthritis named Maud Dowley (Hawkins), who lives with her Aunt Ida (Rose) and brother, and whom (we quickly learn) once gave birth to a deformed baby, which has caused her aunt to think of her as promiscuous.  When her brother sells her childhood home, she randomly ends up being the maid for a gruff fish peddler named Everett (Hawke), whom initially dislikes her and eventually (though further into the movie than you'd anticipate) starts to warm to her.  While serving as his maid, she ends up finding a passion for painting flowers, trees, and birds, which is noticed by a woman (Matchett) visiting Nova Scotia from New York City, who starts to serve as a sponsor of sorts for Maud, offering her $5 for a painting.

You'd assume that at this point you'd know exactly what direction this film is taking, and in some ways you're right-Maud enjoys a newfound level of fame, and her husband has to learn to deal with his wife being more successful than she is, and she has to stand up for herself in the marriage.  But the way that Hawkins, Hawke, & Aisling approach this is on such a soft scale it feels like a new story.  Maud's newfound fame doesn't cause her to leave Nova Scotia, but instead simply means that she gets requests from across North America for her paintings.  Her brushes with celebrity mean a news article and a television interview, but nothing like her going on Carson or Dick Cavett, and the only name drop in the entire film is when Richard Nixon makes a request for one of her paintings (which really happened, though considerably later than when it did in the picture).

As a result, we get a more intimate look into Maud Lewis's real life, as she was not a wealthy woman and her paintings didn't become the type that sold for $25k a pop (like they do now) until after her death.  She and Everett spent most of their lives in relative poverty and in a teensy house on the outskirts of Marshalltown.  As a result, the focus here is less on how Lewis deals with traditional fame, and more with how her husband deals with his love for a woman he didn't know he was capable of caring for (he seemed destined to be an eternal bachelor otherwise), and what fame looks like for the couple on a scale familiar to anyone who lives in a small town.  I loved this approach, because it felt fresh, particularly in the eyes of Hawkins and Hawke, both of whom are superb here.  Hawkins is good with physicality as an actress, playing the hunched over Maud with increasing severity as her arthritis got worse, but also finding her inner-strength and resolve.  We saw in Happy-Go-Lucky that she's shockingly good at playing an optimist, and once again she does that, playing a woman whom we are meant to pity without any sort of pity for herself, instead showing how lucky she was to find the success and the love that she did, even if it doesn't look like what we as an audience might want for her.  Hawke is equally-good as a man who clearly resents Maud's success, but more because he resents that he needs her around.  The way that he manages to show that he loves her without saying it is terrific, and unlike Hawkins (whom I would have bet on being able to play this), Hawke is lightyears away from the dreamer American man stuck in adolescence that has been his best filmic parts.  Both combine to a loving duet that will make you wish this kind of subdued drama was made more often in American cinema.