THE STORY – CJ, a seasoned truck driver who has spent her years traversing the American Southwest, has meticulously constructed a life of distance from her past. However, a letter from the parole board threatens to dismantle the walls she has painstakingly built. CJ, facing the prospect of retirement and a reckoning she has evaded for years, must finally find the courage to pause and contemplate her future.
THE CAST – Margo Martindale, Cole Sprouse, Stephen Root, Yalitza Aparicio, Jefferson White & Wes Studi
THE TEAM – David Drake (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 91 Minutes
“Margo Martindale as a long-haul truck driver.” To lovers of character actors, this pairing of an esteemed actress and an unlikely occupation may be all that’s needed to sell “The Long Haul,” the new film by writer-director David Drake. And while anyone buying a ticket just to see Ms. Martindale will not be disappointed, the film itself has more to offer than just an esteemed, typically-supporting performer getting the chance to shine in a story entirely centered around her. “The Long Haul” is a warm embrace of a film, turning its lens on a subculture not often featured in the movies and portraying them with a respectful honesty. It’s a film about moving ahead, both literally, as CJ’s career requires, and emotionally, which CJ is much more reluctant to when it comes to her past.
Martindale plays CJ, a woman in the male-dominanted field of long-haul trucking. She’s strongly independent, even to the point of owning and operating her truck herself, which isn’t the case with everyone in her profession. It’s easy to imagine how Martindale might play her – perhaps akin to her no-nonsense, blunt role as Hilary Swank’s mom in “Million Dollar Baby.” And while she’s certainly gruff and doesn’t waste time with niceties when she has something she needs to express, CJ is an undeniably compassionate person. She’s just discerning in regard to whom she extends her kindness. In that way, she’s admirable, never letting herself come close to being taken advantage of, monetarily or ethically, as in the moment when she quits a much-needed driving gig mid-route after being disrespected. Martindale conjures a charming performance as a character who doesn’t feel the need to beguile others in order to get her way.
“The Long Haul” is a generally quiet film, featuring seemingly as many shots of the expanses through which CJ drives as people. In that way, Drake puts the audience in CJ’s headspace. Dialogue scenes – especially those with a much younger trucker-slash-influencer played by Cole Sprouse – have a comparatively hurried energy, as if CJ can’t wait for them to be over. These moments are contrasted with the many scenes of CJ driving in silence, accompanied only by Chris Roe’s lovely musical score. Drake captures these moments perfectly, with wide shots of the landscapes and roads that CJ’s truck cuts through. Thanks to the patient camerawork, decidedly unglamorous rural locations and neighborhoods are given an automatic prestige. One of the first shots of the film tracks CJ as she walks from her truck to a gas station store, while the early morning sunlight reflects off of the store’s windows in a way that bathes the screen in stunning golden light. The film gives beauty to the banal throughout. Drake also shoots outdoor scenes at periods of the day that many efficiently-scheduled independent films avoid because of the limited time in which they’re able to be captured effectively, such as dusk and “golden hour.” These segments of unquestionable, unassuming beauty are breathtaking.
The screenplay isn’t always as elegant as the execution of the filmmaking. The characterizations of the supporting figures in CJ’s life are broad, such as Sprouse’s decidedly Gen Z trucker who seeks to disrupt the old fashioned, rule-bending ways of the road in favor of a more streamlined approach. Unsurprisingly, he and CJ clash. CJ is beyond old fashioned, she’s proudly outdated, as indicated in several moments like the one where she curtly reveals that she doesn’t even have an email address. These plot elements are well-worn and won’t feel revelatory to anyone who watches smaller, character-focused films like this. But Martindale elevates these moments, even managing to make some of the instances of cliche histrionics later in the film feel fresh because of the honesty of her portrayal. She displays deeply buried emotions that CJ has worked hard to keep hidden, which only makes their revelation more painful and raw for her. Martindale is also particularly wonderful in a chapter in which she helps a woman named Araceli (Academy Award nominee Yalitza Aparicio) out of a tough situation, temporarily bringing her into her home. The two women warmly connect, despite a language barrier, both clearly calmed by the other’s energy.
“The Long Haul” offers audiences a look into a world with which most will be completely unfamiliar. It doesn’t bother with awkward expository dialogue, instead choosing to have the characters toss off industry terms with a realistic casualness. Similarly, truths and details about CJ’s history are revealed organically rather than through words, in a way that feels true to life. With CJ, viewers are along for the ride, and she doesn’t wait for us to catch up to her. The film brings us into her world, and in a short runtime, makes us care deeply about her. A huge portion of the effectiveness of the film must be credited to Martindale who, as always, crafts a character with honesty. She fully constructs her character from the page and makes her feel totally real, as if we just may encounter CJ at a rest stop on our next long drive, quietly tending to her truck and minding her business.
