(Written by Intern, Sean Barry)
Flannery O’Connor was a radical 20th century author who, despite her successful legacy, had her career cut short due to an unfortunately early death at thirty-nine. Ethan Hawke brings her to life for a modern audience in his newest film, Wildcat, and his daughter stars in the lead role as both O’Connor and a fictionalized version from one of her narratives. Maya Hawke does an admirable job staying grounded in her characters’ morals and desires, but the environments which surround her are too underdeveloped and plain. Much like the message of the actual woman’s life, it is a much needed portrayal of struggling craftsmanship. Striving to do something new in an environment constantly pushing for everyone to join the preexisting system is more relevant today than ever before. Alas, the execution of these themes and ideas are too poorly realized to be effective.
Flannery lives as a writer struggling to break free from the typical mold that society so often forces upon female artists. Although her family is supportive of her career, they are unhelpful in empathizing with her frustrations. Her bold stories go against subjects normally discussed in literature at the time. She regularly writes about familiar experiences, and the tale which gets primarily highlighted here draws heavy inspiration from her own childhood and upbringing in rural Georgia. This novelization has a version of herself deal with racist family and friends along her pathway to become successful. A far cry from the standard biopic format of recent years, the biggest difference comes in the decision to showcase the overarching conflict.
Tragically, just like her late father, the novelist is diagnosed with lupus at only twenty-seven years old. As the disease gradually affects her health, it also alters the entire narrative structure. Initially, we seamlessly switch between Flannery going about her life in the real world, and moments from her building story being acted out. As time goes on, the two different halves begin to merge, and lines between reality and fiction blur together. Frequent cuts between seemingly unrelated scenes and actors playing more than one character add to the confusion that O’Connor must have felt during her final years. Sadly, this layout leaves much to be desired from the final product.
Due to her tendency towards unconventional subject material, Wildcat had the potential to be a fascinating examination of the motivations behind an author’s writing style. Instead, it explains her inspirations through numerous moments of mundane political disagreements between people she knew. Flannery is repeatedly placed into situations opposite a one dimensional character who has only a small set of personality traits. Laura Linney gives an uncharacteristically shallow and stereotypical performance as Flannery’s intensely right-wing mother, Regina, who consistently appears to give her daughter half-hearted life advice. Seeing O’Connor encounter more obstacles and moral quandaries to get where she ended up would have made for a more interesting watch.
Flannery lived a slow life without much pomp and circumstance; an idea reflected in the cinematography and shot selection. Many scenes are displayed using only one or two camera angles, and occasionally it works well. When Flannery attempts to reason with her publisher, neither of them ever get shown in the frame together in order to present the ideological disconnect between them. However, when almost every location features very few cuts and little onscreen action, the pace slows down too much for a story about a complex and compelling historical figure. Even though Ethan Hawke’s admiration for the author is apparent from the start, a more in-depth character analysis would seem more appropriate for such an intriguing figure as Flannery O’Connor.
Discover your inner Wildcat when this biopic, currently playing in limited theaters, expands by region nationwide through June 28th.
