Sorry, Baby

When we experience a traumatic tragedy, we often can’t fathom how we’re going to respond to it. Some reactions may follow expected patterns. But others may come across as wholly unpredictable, in large part because we don’t quite know what to make of them ourselves. That can become considerably more complicated when we don’t even know how to speak about them, to find the words to sufficiently express our feelings. And, when you combine all of these elements, you have the basis for the quandary faced by unnerved protagonist Agnes Ward (actor-writer-director Eva Victor in her debut feature). The film, told in a series of time-shuffled chapters over the course of several years, follows the troubling experience of a graduate student/professor (Victor) enrolled in the English lit program at a small liberal arts college in rural New England, along with her patchwork attempts at reconciling her feelings about it. In the course of sorting out her emotions, her plans for dealing with her circumstances and the potential fallout involved, and the impact of the event on her life and prevailing outlook, she examines her options and feelings from a variety of angles. And, in the course of doing so, she engages in a series of introspective but often-vague conversations with her best friend (Naomi Ackie), her kindly but somewhat bumbling neighbor (Lucas Hedges), an embittered rival from the university (Kelly McCormack) and a Samaritan sandwich shop owner (John Carroll Lynch) who helps her overcome a serious panic attack while driving, among others. These dialogues often mix a curious combination of poignant observations, dark humor and blunt revelations. But therein lies the picture’s fatal flaw – this odd concoction of story elements doesn’t mesh well, leaving viewers wondering where the narrative is ultimately headed (the overriding uncertainty of the lead’s reaction to her circumstances notwithstanding). It’s as if this offering is constantly reaching for a profound insight that it’s fundamentally unable to adequately express, an experience that becomes ever more exasperating as the picture unfolds. That’s unfortunate given the subject matter involved here, but the goal is never sufficiently attained, presenting the audience with an array of random situations and a collection of unrelated characters that seem to provide the basis of something meaningful that never emerges. To its credit, there are some truly engaging moments (though not enough of them), backed by fine performances and some gorgeous cinematography. But those qualities aren’t nearly enough to save this lost and meandering exercise that seems innately incapable of answering its own questions, making for what essentially amounts to an ambitious but innately unsatisfying watch.