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‘Darkest Miriam’ Review: Britt Lower in a Marvel of a Drama About a Young Librarian’s Loves and Fears

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‘Darkest Miriam’ Review: Britt Lower in a Marvel of a Drama About a Young Librarian’s Loves and Fears

Writer and director Naomi Jaye has taken the unpromising story of a soft-spoken young librarian and turned it into a small wonder of a film, eloquent and captivating. Britt Lower (Helly in Severance) is subtle but magnetic as Miriam, who works in a neighborhood library in Toronto, eating lunch alone every day in a nearby park. She seems content with her quiet life, even when wafting a little robotically through the library stacks in her oversized sweater. Whether her aura suggests sadness or complacency we don’t yet know.

The film has a definite narrative trajectory, as Miriam begins a relationship with Janko (Tom Mercier), a Slovenian taxi diver and artist who eats lunch on the park bench across from her. But its distinctive quality comes from how deftly Jaye balances that story with Miriam’s inner life. She delicately moves us in and out of Miriam’s memories and observances, with an occasional poetic touch, yet the film never loses its tether to the real world.

Darkest Miriam

The Bottom Line

An elegant, imaginative gem.

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Venue: Tribeca Film Festival (Viewpoints)
Cast: Britt Lower, Tom Mercier, Sook-Yin Lee, Jean Yoon
Director and writer: Naomi Jaye

1 hour 27 minutes

Much of that reality depends on Lower’s layered performance. Even when Miriam is enigmatic, Lower suggests the depth and, as it turns out, grief beneath her self-protective calm. The tone itself is not grim though. In voiceover, Miriam wryly describes the library’s regular visitors, filing reports on any disruptive event.  Deadpan, she describes Suitcase Man, who always carries one, Fainting Man, who often does, and Unusually Pale Female Patron.

The odd, almost fantastical events kick in gradually. Miriam discovers letters stashed in books and signed Rigoletto, as in the opera her father took her to when she was a child. “I am Rigoletto and I will not be doing any more suffering,” one reads. Others seem to be explicitly about Miriam, referencing her movements through the library.

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This plot thread doesn’t play out as a detective story, even though Miriam’s boss and a police officer also read the letters, so we know they exist. Jaye treats it as a psychological mystery, part of the key to Miriam. Her father is the touchstone. We don’t learn until nearly halfway into the film that he has died, although we have seen him in Miriam’s memory. He sits in the garage surrounded by books piled to the ceiling, the image sending an unspoken signal that something is off. But she tells Janko he is alive and selling insurance.

Mercier’s performance also reflects the film’s understated tone perfectly. Janko is just as soft-spoken as Miriam, but more direct and open than she can be. He nicknames her Darkest Miriam, but his own paintings include a textured, entirely black canvas. As a couple they seem like a perfect fit.   

The film is based on a 2009 novel by Martha Baillie called The Incident Report, composed entirely of reports Miriam has filed. Darkest Miriam is far less elliptical, yet it is also comfortable with leaving things unexplained, allowing viewers to piece together what they will. Questions and strange events begin to pile up. Riding her bike home one evening Miriam falls into a construction hole, and, unharmed, looks up at the night stars. While getting checked at the hospital the next day, she is asked questions she’d obviously rather not answer, including whether she’d ever had suicidal thoughts. The camera is close on Lower’s unmoving face and pained expression, as Miriam stares silently ahead.

Jaye is a Toronto-based installation artist as well as a filmmaker with one previous feature, The Pin, (2013) but is scarcely known in the U.S. Darkest Miriam displays a sure sense of when to move the camera fluidly and when to let it sit, when to let images speak for themselves. Miriam seduces Janko by stopping on her way out of his apartment, turning to face him and matter-of-factly taking off her clothes as if she has simply made a decision. The film is full of risky choices that work. Miriam is often seen though windows or silhouetted against a doorway.

Between sequences, Jaye sometimes includes close-ups of flowers and plants in the park, once cutting from the darkness of Miriam’s father’s garage to the bright garden colors. In less capable hands this would all be pretentious, but Jaye maneuvers beautifully, using those touches just enough to evoke the mysteries of Miriam’s life.     

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There is a dramatic turn at the end that we don’t see coming, and Lower allows us to feel Miriam’s deep emotional pain, yet the film ends with Miriam pointed toward the future. That mix of the tragic and the hopeful is just the kind of off-kilter balance that makes the film so exceptional and compelling. Charlie Kaufman has lent his name to the project as an executive producer, and while there is a definite sympathy between his imaginative approach and hers, Jaye’s artistry comes through as purely hers, a true discovery.

Movie Reviews

All the Long Nights: meditative return by Small, Slow But Steady director

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All the Long Nights: meditative return by Small, Slow But Steady director

3/5 stars

The fate of the universe does not always need to hang in the balance to create compelling drama. Sometimes, something as simple as garnering a better understanding of a colleague can prove sufficient, as is the case in Sho Miyake’s new drama.

Adapted from Maiko Seo’s novel of the same name, All the Long Nights follows two young people whose prospects in the adult world have been cut short by disorders that affect their everyday experience.

Misa (Mone Kamishiraishi) suffers from extreme premenstrual syndrome, which triggers mood swings so violent that she was forced to quit her previous office job.

Meanwhile, Takatoshi (Hokuto Matsumura) is hobbled by debilitating panic attacks, which have had a similarly negative impact on his professional aspirations.

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These two lonely souls meet when Misa moves back home to be close to her ailing mother (Ryo), and gets an administrative job at a small company that distributes science equipment for children.

Initially, Misa and Takatoshi have little in common, their eccentricities and peccadillos even causing a degree of tension and irritation between them.

But when Misa discovers that Takatoshi takes the same herbal medication as she does, it sparks a growing understanding and empathy between the two of them, which only grows when they team up to collaborate on a planetarium project.

Hokuto Matsumura as Takatoshi (left) and Mone Kamishiraishi as Misa in a still from All the Long Nights.

Miyake’s film conjures an affectionate portrayal of sleepy suburbia, exemplified by the low-stakes challenges of small-business office culture that unfolds at a gentle, unhurried pace, as one has come to expect from Japanese dramas of this ilk.

Where this film differs from many of its contemporaries, however, is in the absence of such archetypal clichés as romance or illness. Misa and Takatoshi’s relationship remains defiantly platonic throughout, with neither party ever threatening to overstep their boundaries or behave inappropriately.

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Instead of a story about finding a kindred spirit with whom to explore the boundless expanse of the universe, All the Long Nights is a tale of curiosity and understanding.

Both characters strive to learn more about their colleague’s physiological disorder to better inform themselves, but also so that they might become a more valuable and empathetic friend to the other.

A still from All the Long Nights.

The performances are understated but also effective, unburdened by the need to resort to histrionics to advance the narrative.

Undeniably, Misa and Takatoshi come to depend upon one another as a crutch for coming to terms with their own issues, but Miyake’s proposal that this connection need go no further is as honest and refreshing as they come.

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Movie Reviews

Movie review: “The Watchers”

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Movie review: “The Watchers”
“The Watchers” is a horror/thriller movie that is Isha Night Shyamalan’s directorial debut, released in 2024. It is based on the book The Watchers by A.M. Shine. There is a hint of fantastical elements throughout the movie and lore that would have made for a great overall story, but unfortunately,…
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Movie Reviews

Movie Review: ‘Summer Camp’ is an entertaining disappointment

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Movie Review: ‘Summer Camp’ is an entertaining disappointment

Nothing forges a friendship like treating an arrow wound. For Ginny, Mary and Nora, an ill-fated archery lesson and an injured classmate are just the beginning of the lifetime of trouble they’re about to start.

Ginny is a year above the other two, more experienced in both summer camp and girlhood, and takes it upon herself to somewhat forcefully guide her younger friends. Mary cowers in the bathroom away from her bunkmates, spouting medical facts, while Nora hangs back, out of place. When their camp counselor plucks them out of their cabin groups to place them in the new “Sassafras” cabin, they feel like they fit in somewhere for the first time.

50 years later, “Summer Camp” sees the three girls, now women, reunite for the anniversary reunion of the very same camp at which they met. Although they’ve been in touch on-and-off in the preceding decades, this will be the first time the women have seen each other in 15 years.

Between old camp crushes, childhood nemeses and the newer trials of adulthood, the three learn to understand each other, and themselves, in a way that has eluded them the entirety of their friendship.

I really wanted to like “Summer Camp.”

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The opening scene, a glimpse at the girls’ first year together at Camp Pinnacle, does a good job at establishing Ginny, Mary and Nora’s dynamic. It’s sweet, funny and feels true to the experience of many adolescent girls’ friendships.

On top of that, this movie’s star-studded cast and heartwarming concept endeared me to it the moment I saw the trailer. Unfortunately, an enticing trailer is about the most “Summer Camp” has to offer.

As soon as we meet our trio as adults, things start to fall apart. It really feels like the whole movie was made to be cut into a trailer — the music is generic, shots cut abruptly between poses, places and scenes, and at one point two of the three separate shots of each woman exiting Ginny’s tour bus are repeated.

The main character and sometimes narrator, Ginny Moon, is a self-help writer who uses “therapy speak” liberally and preaches a tough-love approach to self improvement. This sometimes works perfectly for the movie’s themes but is often used to thwop the viewer over the head with a mallet labeled “WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE THINKING” rather than letting us figure it out for ourselves.

There are glimpses of a better script — like when Mary’s husband asks her whether she was actually having fun or just being bullied, presumably by Ginny. This added some depth to her relationship with him, implying he actually does listen to her sometimes, and acknowledged the nagging feeling I’d been getting in the back of my head: “Hey, isn’t Ginny kind of mean?”

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Despite all my annoyance with “Summer Camp,” there were a few things I really liked about it. I’m a lot younger than the main characters of this movie, but there were multiple points where I found myself thinking, “Hey, my aunt talks like that!” or, “Wow, he sounds just like my dad.”

The dynamic of the three main characters felt very true to life, I’ve known and been each of them at one point or another. It felt especially accurate to the relationships of girls and women, and seeing our protagonists reconcile at the end was, for me, genuinely heartwarming.

“Summer Camp” is not a movie I can recommend for quality, but if you’re looking for a lighthearted, somewhat silly romp to help you get into the summer spirit, this one will do just fine.

Other stories by Caroline

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Caroline Julstrom, intern, may be reached at 218-855-5851 or cjulstrom@brainerddispatch.com.

Caroline Julstrom finished her second year at the University of Minnesota in May 2024, and started working as a summer intern for the Brainerd Dispatch in June.

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