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The post The Next Best Picture Podcast – Interviews With “Mouse” Stars Katherine Mallen Kupferer, Sophie Okonedo & Filmmakers Kelly O’Sullivan & Alex Thompson appeared first on Next Best Picture.

THE CAST – Sophie Okonedo, Katherine Mallen Kupferer, Chloe Coleman, Tara Mallen & Iman Vellani

THE TEAM – Kelly O’Sullivan (Director/Writer) & Alex Thompson (Director)

THE RUNNING TIME – 120 Minutes

“Ghostlight” and “Saint Francis” filmmakers Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson return to the big screen with “Mouse,” a deeply personal exploration of grief told across two generations, featuring Katherine Mallen Kupferer’s Minnie and Sophie Okonedo’s Helen. The tragedy that occurs is shocking, no less so for a teenager whose entire life centres around school and friends. Losing a best friend is bound to shake anyone, but here it reinvents coming-of-age traditions into something deeply humane and impactful.

The film begins with seniors at North Little Rock High School throwing endless rolls of toilet paper at the houses of two juniors. Those juniors are Minnie (Katherine Mallen Kupferer) and Callie (Chloe Coleman). The two are inseparable best friends who do everything together. However, they are quite different as people. Minnie does well in school, whereas Callie lags behind in her grades. The two are opposites when it comes to popularity, with Minnie having only Callie as a close friend. Minnie’s world is turned upside down when Callie suddenly dies in a car accident. It is a shocking turn that comes out of nowhere.

With little time to process the loss of someone so special, Minnie is forced to continue with her everyday life. She goes to work and attends school as usual. But she is lonely and seeks comfort in Callie’s mother, and the two bond over their love for Callie. At school, Minnie signs up for the cabaret, where she plans to perform one of Callie’s songs. The whole show serves as a tribute to Callie, with some of her friends wanting a more overt tribute and others opting for a subtler approach.

O’Sullivan and Thompson are interested in the human condition and capture it here with a tender, loving yet honest touch. Everything feels natural, as the actors are given room to authentically discover their characters’ humanity and bring it to life in this story. Every line and every look feels real. This effortless naturalism is paired with luscious, nostalgic visuals that echo the era in which the film is set. Co-cinematographers Nate Hurtsellers and Luke Dyra shoot the film in a stylistic manner that highlights the sun-drenched youthful highs and isolating lows the characters experience.

“Mouse” is seriously funny at times. There are countless laughs throughout the film. Notably, Callie’s supposed best friend, or so she claims, Cara, is a great source of laughter. She proclaims, “I’d marry Brittney for her values and kill Christina because she’s a skank,” while playing F marry kill with Callie’s father and her friends. O’Sullivan really understands the younger generation. Her writing is relatable, quirk-filled, and specific to that generation of young American women. The film is often charming and genuinely funny, while also being profound in the right measure.

It does not shy away from being a coming-of-age drama, despite upending the natural course of Minnie and Callie enjoying and growing together in their senior year. Instead, Minnie’s journey becomes largely defined by grief, but she continues to grow up while grappling with loss. She has her first kiss, gets drunk at a party, and steps out of her comfort zone as she becomes less shy. These are all major steps in Minnie’s journey, similar to those taken by most protagonists in coming-of-age films. O’Sullivan has a few twists up her sleeve, including Minnie’s interest in a local video store worker (Iman Vellani). It is a charming development, as she finds someone she cares for again, bringing happiness back into her life in a different way.

Sophie Okonedo delivers a devastating performance as Callie’s grieving mother. She is both kind and blunt in equal measure, bringing a touch of dry British wit to an otherwise all-American film. She has many great moments with Katherine Mallen Kupferer, who plays Minnie, as they form a bond through their shared grief. Kupferer herself is excellent, standing out for her precise portrayal of the teenage experience and the many stages of grief. She has a charming presence that radiates through the screen. Funnily enough, Kupferer is joined by her real-life mother, Tara Mullen, who plays her fictional mother in the film. Their back-and-forth is so natural that it quickly becomes evident they are extremely comfortable with each other. The rest of the ensemble is strong, and their performances are a testament to the director duo’s eye for talent.

Each person is unique. No one deals with grief in the same way or experiences it equally. Losing a child is possibly the worst thing imaginable, but losing a best friend is just as impactful and redefining, especially at such a young age. The film explores moving forward, setting boundaries, and finding self-worth amid endless grief. Feelings of denial and anger, to name just a few, are all valid. The film is potent and heartfelt on the surface, but beneath that surface, it has something thoughtful to say about humanity and grief.

Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson have made something special here. It certainly made an impact at its Berlinale premiere. The story is emotionally gripping while also having fun and not shying away from its coming-of-age sensibilities. It is a naturalistic gem that demands to be seen. There is little wrong with the film. It seems the co-directors and partners in life have truly hit their stride with a third great film in a row.

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THE CAST – Keith Kupferer, Dolly de Leon, Katherine May Kupferer, Tara Mallen, Hana Dworkin, Tommy Rivera-Vega, Alma Washington, H.B. Ward, Dexter Zollicoffer, Deanna Dunagan & Francis Guinan

THE TEAM – Kelly O’Sullivan (Director/Writer) & Alex Thompson (Director)

THE RUNNING TIME – 110 Minutes

Shakespeare’s “Romeo & Juliet” has probably inspired more subsequent stories than any other play ever written. The tale of star-crossed lovers whose double suicide ends their families’ years-long feud has captured the hearts and imaginations of audiences and artists for centuries, inspiring countless adaptations across genres. You’d be forgiven for thinking there was no new angle from which to look at the play, but “Ghostlight,” the new film from Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson, has found a way to incorporate it in a way that feels fresh, even inspired Through a community theater production of the play, a family learns to heal from a recent tragedy.

We first meet Dan (Keith Kupferer) as he raises the curtain on his daily routine. As a construction worker, a jackhammer, he lugs heavy loads of materials and directs traffic around the construction site, but he’s distracted. His daughter, Daisy (Katherine Mallen Kupferer), has been acting out at school in increasingly violent ways, and his wife, Sharon (Tara Mallen), is at the end of her rope taking care of both of them as well as the grade school students she teaches. The family has been reeling from a recent unnamed tragedy and has retreated into their own personal cocoons, living with each other but not listening to one other. One day, when the pressure of everything gets to Dan, and he loses his temper on the job, he catches the eye of Rita (Dolly De Leon), an actor with a local theater troupe who brings him into a rehearsal of “Romeo & Juliet” after the actor playing Capulet (Juliet’s father) quits. Despite supporting his daughter’s love of performing, Dan has never acted himself, and he doesn’t want to be there. He’s the kind of old-school guy who never expresses his emotions and doesn’t understand most of what’s happening. But he finds himself drawn back to the theater, and in the process of rehearsing the play and sharing with the group of oddballs that make up the cast, he opens himself up to feeling the emotions he has been repressing. As Daisy and Sharon eventually become involved, they start to heal as a family.

The speed with which the film unfurls the backstory of the family’s tragedy can feel agonizingly slow, but when the reveal comes, it hits home. Dan doesn’t know the story of “Romeo & Juliet,” and when it comes time to rehearse one of the key scenes, he breaks down. He does not understand why the characters do what they do, nor why anyone would write such a thing. Pushed to perform the scene anyway, he blows up and turns to face away from the rest of the ensemble and tells them his story. Slowly, one by one, they each silently approach and start hugging him, staying at his back so that he can feel their support without having to show his face. Their respect for his personal space combines with their support and love for him in a gesture so powerful in its simplicity that you cannot help but be moved. O’Sullivan and Thompson’s gracefully understated direction never over-embellishes the moment, keeping Quinn Tsan’s lovely score away from the most emotional moments. The directing duo strikes the exact right tone, letting the deep emotions speak for themselves.

Casting an actual family in the central roles only adds to the emotional authenticity of the film. The familial shorthand present between them transfers to the screen seamlessly, making the film’s communal spirit even more meaningful. Each family member performs in a different register – all the better to align with their different stages of grief – but they still feel like a unit, and each of them gives a wonderful performance. Mallen has the smallest role, but she adds dimension to every scene she’s in, revealing hidden layers to Sharon and Dan’s story with every reaction. Mallen Kupferer may feel a bit stiff and unbelievable in the earliest scenes with Daisy acting out. But as the character softens, the actress loosens up, blossoming into a natural performer before our very eyes. Daisy is the mouthpiece for the screenplay’s themes because of her experience with theater, and Mallen Kupferer makes a clear connection between Daisy’s strong sense of decency and the empathy she gains for others by playing other characters. As Dan, Kupferer performs with uncommon sensitivity, slowly breaking down Dan’s walls and rebuilding him from the ground up. Dan’s journey ends up about where one would expect, but the path he takes to get there bears some unexpected turns. Kupferer sells every single one, digging deep to find unexpected wells of strength and emotion for the character. Dan constantly surprises himself, and watching Kupferer chart his journey to acceptance is heartrending. It’s one of the year’s best performances so far, subtle and interior but beautifully modulated and hugely impactful.

Anyone who has participated in amateur theatricals – community theater groups, church plays, school shows – knows the indefatigable communal spirit that powers these often threadbare groups, how the community that forms when working on a show lifts one up and carries one when things go wrong. “Ghostlight” captures that spirit with great warmth and honesty – that group hug the ensemble gives to Dan is the most obvious example, but it is just one of many such beautifully rendered moments. The key is the empathy that lies at the heart of the craft of acting. In order to believably portray a character different from you, you have to put yourself in their shoes, understand what they’ve been through, and comprehend why they do what they do. O’Sullivan and Thompson have made that theater-based empathy the film’s North Star, the guiding force behind every artistic decision.

“Ghostlight” contains several emotional climaxes in the third act, as family history and play production become more deeply intertwined. The last one is the most muted, which sends the film out with a whisper instead of a bang, but it’s a choice perfectly in keeping with the film’s ethos, one that trades in grand gestures for smaller, more intimate ones and makes them land with maximum impact. Grief is a heavy load, and we all need a soft place to fall so that we can unburden ourselves of it. The theatrical community, so grounded in empathy and deep feeling, free of shame and judgment, is just such a place. “Ghostlight” stands as a powerful testament and soul-stirring tribute to that community and its power.

The post “GHOSTLIGHT” appeared first on Next Best Picture.