The uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic has forced us all to pause. I find myself feeling as though life is continuing on somewhere outside of me, in another world. In this uncertain time, it can help to immerse oneself in someone else’s narrative. Eliza Hittman makes this transition seamless for her viewers.
The power of Hittman’s films exists mostly in what is left unsaid rather than in the actual dialogue, which is sparse. She captures rawness and intimacy in subtle moments—the grasp of a hand, an audible breath, a gaze. Never Rarely Sometimes Always is Hittman’s third and most recent film, and was released online in April. The film elaborates on a similar theme played out in Hittman’s first two features, It Felt Like Love and Beach Rats: the emotional turmoil involved in navigating life as a teenager with parents who are either absent, neglectful, or terribly ill.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always gets its title from its most intense and breathtaking scene, when seventeen-year-old Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) finds herself in a Planned Parenthood office, and a counselor asks her a particularly tough question: “Your partner has threatened or frightened you—never, rarely, sometimes, or always?” The film tracks Autumn’s journey alongside her cousin, Skylar (Talia Ryder), from rural Pennsylvania to New York City, where Autumn hopes she will be able to get an abortion. The film reveals some important themes along the way: the precariousness of being a teenage girl in rural America, the difficulties associated with fending off the unwanted male gaze, and the obstacles that often line the path to an abortion.
No aspect of the film is overstated—every social interaction and slight utterance is so naturalistic that it seems plausible that this exact situation is happening in real-time, miles away from us and outside of our awareness. In a film about abortion, this realism is critical: rather than portraying Autumn’s journey as a fictional, melodramatic tale, Hittman takes care to frame it as something real. Although clearly pro-choice, Hittman doesn’t over-politicize Autumn’s story. Rather, the director finds a way to humanize this highly contentious topic, providing viewers insight into experience, not politics. As I watched this film during the developing COVID-19 drama, the obstacles that Autumn encountered raised, in me, important questions about how a situation like hers might transpire during this pandemic.
We never learn the identity of the father of Autumn’s unborn child, although we’re presented with a few unsettling possibilities—her sleazy stepfather, a classmate who yells “slut” from the audience of her talent-show rendition of “He’s Got the Power,” or maybe even her creepy boss at the supermarket where she works with her cousin. The men that Autumn and Skylar encounter along their journey each illuminate the quiet interpersonal perils of the female teenage experience. Even the intentions of a seemingly harmless boy on the bus from Pennsylvania to NYC appear vaguely threatening.
Hittman doesn’t waste screentime on the details of Autumn’s backstory, rather she gives us emotional information underlying Autumn’s present reality, cementing the attachments we feel to her intensely drawn characters. In fact, this focus on Autumn’s present is what gives the film its strength. It makes one think, perhaps indelibly, about the various circumstances that could have led any one of us to Autumn’s reality.
Hittman has a way of making viewers feel as though we’re being invited into private moments that aren’t usually portrayed on screen. Her characters emulate complete vulnerability—with each scene, we see another layer of life revealed, but in a way that feels thrillingly invasive. Never Rarely Sometimes Always unravels experiences in a way that makes them feel universal but none-the-less meaningful.
So, if you find yourself needing a break, perhaps just to feel something in this mind-numbing time, dip into a Hittman film. Her characters feel real enough to take your mind off of our own reality—for about 90 minutes, at least.
Eliza Farber is pursuing a major in psychology at McGill University, as well as minors in history and communications. Eliza is an aspiring writer. She enjoys exploring life through film, television, music, and literature.
Feature Image Source: Giffoni_ Experience on flickr.
