Underscored by chaos and life in flux, Sean Price Williams’ The Sweet East is a picturesque tale of a teenage girl’s voyage across the East Coast of the U.S. amid turbulent political and personal landscapes. Lillian (Talia Ryder) is a South Carolina native, separated from her classmates during a high school senior trip to the nation’s capital. She then travels to various states and eventually back home, encountering a multifarious cast of characters along the way. Meticulously curated anachronistic costumes and gorgeous cinematography give the film an inviting visual appeal.
The film had its Montreal premiere at Cinéma du Parc on Jan. 12 with writer Nick Pinkerton in attendance, who indulged the packed theatre in a post-screening Q and A.
The Sweet East is the directorial and screenwriting debut for both Williams and Pinkerton, who found inspiration for the project in the aftermath of Trump’s victory in 2016.
“After the Trump election, Sean texted me: ‘Let’s make a MAGA movie.’ Not, of course, a pro-MAGA movie […] but something that seemed to be responding to the way things were at the time,” Pinkerton explained in the Q and A. This inspiration shines through in the film, both in explicit and subtle, overarching ways.
In the second part of the movie—after parting ways with a punk activist group based in Baltimore—Lillian finds herself living with Lawrence (Simon Rex), an amateurish English professor with a penchant for Poe and neo-Nazism. Lillian’s tolerance, or rather, weathering, of him reflects a national drive to survive in the face of less-than-desirable circumstances.
Her escape comes in the form of Molly (Ayo Edebiri) and Matthew (Jeremy O. Harris), fast-talking indie filmmakers on the hunt for a lead actress. But ‘escape’ is relative; Lillian, still a long way from home, navigates unfamiliar terrain. The instability of The Sweet East is tangible, echoed by the changing seasons, settings, and ever-rotating cast of supporting characters. This instability feels all too relatable to me and to anyone sensitive to the uncertainties of the real world—political or otherwise.
One of the film’s strongest elements is its protagonist. Demure and often inscrutable, Lillian might be considered a “blank slate”—a person not yet changed by beliefs or experience. To hear Pinkerton tell it, Lillian is anything but blank.
“We take oversharing, or the messy spilling out of personality, as being synonymous with there being a lot there. In my mind, [Lillian] is the most full person in the movie, in that she has a sense of privacy [and] boundaries. The people who are constantly disgorging themselves onto her: They’re the empty ones.”
I have to agree. When Lillian returns home at the end of the movie, enlightened from her journey, her cousin informs her that most people believed she’d run off to shoot pornography films. Residents of her hometown can only imagine a narrow scope of the outside world. The viewer grows empathetic to Lillian’s desire for a life beyond the people and places that limit her.
During the Q and A, Pinkerton rebuked reviews of the film that fail to talk about the sound. And so, I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on the film’s sound and music. Williams and Dean Hurley’s original score is unsettling, rendering even the most mundane of Lillian’s interactions into tense, unpredictable scenarios. The film also features an original song, “Evening Mirror,” written by Paul Grimstad and performed by lead actress Talia Ryder. The soothing, mystical tune plays over the opening credits, as Lillian sings to herself in the mirror. This musical moment, never again replicated, prepares the viewer for an uncanny experience.
Through its technical successes, The Sweet East cements itself as a well-produced package of youthful curiosity and unconventional girlhood on the Eastern Seaboard, and ultimately as strong debuts for both Sean Price Williams and Nick Pinkerton.
The Sweet East is now playing in theatres.
