Ballast (15)

Starring: Michael J Smith Sr, Tarra Riggs

Reviewed,Anthony Quinn
Thursday 17 March 2011 21:00 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Why this American indie should have taken three years to reach the UK is baffling, but I'm very glad it has. Set in the austere, unpeopled flatlands of the Mississippi Delta, it recounts the story of three people coming to terms with a suicide, which, like much else here, goes unseen.

Lawrence (Michael J Smith Sr) is a burly, reticent fellow choked up by his twin brother's death; James (JimMyron Ross) is the dead man's teenage son, bored and drifting into delinquency; Marlee (Tarra Riggs) is his mother, damaged by life and implacably hostile towards Lawrence, her brother-in-law. The first-time writer-director Lance Hammer unfolds this three-way relationship with watchful subtlety, having rehearsed his non-professional actors to a point where they seem to be living their characters, not projecting them. Shot in chilly midwinter blues and greys by the British cinematographer Lol Crawley, Ballast nods to the elliptical storytelling and moody implication of the Dardenne brothers (Rosetta, The Son), especially in the way it places character against landscape. But the film has a life of its own, too, expressed in a stoical patience and an understated humanity that makes of its final shot something quietly moving.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in