Review – Sherrybaby

I felt really sorry for Maggie Gyllenhaal in this effort. She’s got talent, and better yet she’s got the guts to take on roles that other big-name actresses wouldn’t touch (which no doubt is part of what she’s doing here). However, she’s largely squandered in this indie production (funded by IFC and Netflix) that appears to have no goal loftier than creating an hour and a half worth of embarrassing situations. This has the potential to be a genuinely moving story of a lower-class woman struggling to re-establish her life – particularly her relationship with her daughter – after getting out of prison. Unfortunately the rookie director complicates the narrative with no end of tense moments. As if it weren’t bad enough that the protagonist has to have some kind of sexual contact – often graphic – with every adult male speaking role in the movie (literally) except her parole officer and her brother. But watching her try to win back her daughter’s love by singing a humiliating rendition of an old Bangles tune in front of her entire family, well, it all just got to be too much. Not for the first time I found myself wondering why independent film-makers, liberated from the restrictions (such as sexual taboos) of Hollywood productions, seem to have so much trouble making skillful use of their freedom. Mildly amusing