The Feature.

The existential loop of who we are, what we’re doing with our lives and the purpose of our mere existence can be utterly plaguing. Jesse Eisenberg’s The Debut takes this preoccupation and offers a fresh perspective on the search for meaning, exploring what happens when the life we’ve lived no longer feels like our own. Eisenberg’s third directorial venture follows Mona Friedman (Julianne Moore), a seemingly unassuming New Jersey housewife whose existence has become defined by domestic responsibilities and familial expectations. Overlooked within her own household, Mona appears to have become a supporting character in the story of her own life. When she auditions for a local musical production, however, she discovers an opportunity to step beyond the confines of her everyday existence and explore an identity that feels entirely her own. Under the direction of Jerry (Paul Giamatti), an eccentric and demanding theatre director, Mona becomes increasingly consumed by her role as Miss Danielle. What begins as a modest attempt to pursue something beyond domestic life gradually develops into an increasingly obsessive search for artistic authenticity. As the boundaries between performer and character begin to blur, The Debut finds its comedic sweet spot in the sheer absurdity of Mona’s...

Beyond the responsibility of making sure a set is running smoothly and safely, it’s the more personal and specific responsibilities that a filmmaker places on themselves that will always be the ones that weigh heaviest and speak loudest on screen. Sian Heder’s work carries baggage, and she always finds a way to deftly lighten that load. Her films appear to be born from a genuine aching desire to do good, to make something happen, to leave someone inspired and conscious of something they may have been previously ignorant of. In this regard, she soars. Sian clearly admires Judy Heumann to no end, and I left incredibly happy to now know who Judy Heumann is, to know how irrevocable her impact remains today.  Being Heumann seeks to extend her resistance, it’s reassuring to know that the filmmaker behind both this and the best picture winning CODA - two stories that demand a lot of tenderness and research from their teller - are being delivered by someone with the empathetic touch of Sian Heder.  There’s an unignorable lack of “experience” happening in the character writing, humour or tone here. I could never shake off my absence of internal conversation; it’s a film...