Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020)
You expect Never Rarely Sometimes Always to draw all sorts of emotions from you. Even if you think you're prepared for it, you're not. It isn't so much the story, it's the way it's told that gets you.
17-year-old Autumn Callahan (Sidney Flannigan) is 10-weeks pregnant. After realizing she cannot get an abortion in Pennsylvania without her parents’ consent, she and her cousin Skylar (Talia Ryder) travel to New York - alone - to get the procedure done.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always has a documentary-like quality (a testament to its performances). It maintains a distance by showing without judging. Eliza Hittman simply asks you to keep watching. Then again, the nature of this story is so personal you feel like a ghost walking next to the two teens, frustratingly powerless. The movie is solely about Autumn’s trip to New York and the obstacles she faces as she tries to get the abortion. The focus is so narrow we hardly get to know her - or anyone else at all. This choice makes you forget about everything else but what's on-screen. The whole movie is entirely composed of quiet moments that make you think. For instance, we never find out who the father is or what circumstances caused Autumn to become pregnant. You have to fill in the blanks yourself. This makes the film so powerful and thought-provoking. This could be anyone's story. Since you're right there, it becomes yours.
It's like there's always someone making Autumn's life difficult. Her father (Ryan Eggold) isn’t in the movie much but he establishes himself as a complete turd. You’re mad at Autumn’s mom (Sharon Van Etten) for staying with him. Everywhere else, Autumn is either bullied or eyed by guys who have no business giving a second look to a 17-year old. You’re put into such a state of unease your nerves start to fry. What's with Jasper (Théodore Pellerin's)? Maybe there is more to this movie after all. This may be a cautionary tale or a harsh lesson. Anything could happen.
Our protagonist is such a blank slate (sometimes frustratingly so) that you wind up projecting yourself onto her. Everything Autumn faces seems so unfair and the injustices seem even bigger because this… shouldn’t be this hard. By simply showing the scenario, it asks hard-to-answer questions. Why does she need her parents’ permission? How can the lady who works at the crisis pregnancy center be so hellbent on pushing her agenda? Isn’t there anyone willing to help this vulnerable girl? By the time we meet someone who is, it's too late. The paperwork and questions feel way too personal, way too intrusive. They may be doing their job but to Autumn - and you - it's another intrusion.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always packs an emotional punch that's guaranteed to stick. I might even call it important considering the current climate. Certainly, this is one of the year's best. (November 15, 2020)
