Sundance Review: Martha Marcy May Marlene

Martha Marcy May Marlene explores the aftermath of a young girl’s involvement with a cult living on an isolated farm in the Catskills. The thoughtful script by writer/director Sean Durkin is a character study crafted as a deliberately paced psychological thriller, with Elizabeth Olsen (younger sister of Mary-Kate and Ashley, and an accomplished theatrical actress in her own right) as Martha, whose alias “Marcy Mae” is given her by charismatic cult leader Patrick (John Hawkes) upon her arrival to his seemingly idyllic self-sustaining farm/commune.

We get glimpses of Marcy Mae/Martha’s life on the farm in the opening scene and then in flashbacks throughout the film: men and women, simply clothed, working on various farm chores; a child playing in the grass; touchy-feely guitar singalongs; a peaceful setting that feels modeled after the communes fashioned from the Utopian dreams of the idealistic hippy era, or perhaps the more practical, spiritual, anti-modernist and anti-consumerist lifestyle of the Amish.

And we see Marcy Mae leaving the farm — running from the farm, hiding in a panic from her adopted family members as they search for her, quaking with fear when one of them finds her in the diner in town, voice trembling when she calls her sister Laura (Sarah Paulson), who apparently hasn’t heard from her in years, from a pay phone.

Laura picks up Marcy Mae — now Martha once again — and takes her to the lakeside vacation home she shares with her husband, where it readily becomes apparent that all is not right with Martha, that whatever happened to her on that farm has shattered her so completely that she’s no longer the person her sister once knew. But Martha either cannot or will not tell her sister and brother-in-law where she’s been or what happened to her; so far as they know, she’s been living with a boyfriend she left simply because he lied to her, and she hadn’t called her sister in over two years because she simply lost track of time, a recalcitrant, rebellious child.

Structurally, the script unfolds in a deliberate manner, revealing bits and pieces of Marcy Mae/Martha’s life on the farm by first luring us, as she was lured, into the deceptively halcyon world Patrick has created there to lure his followers, with all the care of a spider crafting a web to catch the most fragile of insects who have the misfortune to happen upon his path.

Once caught, the young people who happen onto Patrick’s farm are gradually persuaded that the most reasonable thing to do, if they’re to cleanse themselves of their toxic pasts and live real lives, is to abandon their families and friends and whatever dreams and hopes and values they may have started out with in favor of embracing fully the communal life he offers them … so long as they are obedient to him and willing to empty themselves completely of all that’s formed them into the people they are when they come to the farm, so that he can reshape them in accordance with his own vision.

The press notes say Durkin fleshed out many of the ideas for the things that happen on the farm through a friend who’d been in a similar situation in a cult that turned violent, who shared her story with him, and the events that unfold ring very true. Durkin eschews the shock value and overt violence found in many thrillers, instead keeping the focus on the psychological aspect of Martha/Marcy Mae’s involvement with the cult in such a way that we don’t just see, but feel, the way in which Patrick lures her in and then gradually increases his control over her. The script is tightly written for all that it’s ambiguous at times about certain things that happen; there’s precious little exposition, and where there is some it’s woven masterfully into the storytelling.

That the film works so effectively is in large part due to the terrific performances by Olsen and Hawkes and the way they play off each other: her vulnerable fragility, his seemingly innocuous charm; her sense of abandonment by her family, his eagerness to step in and nurture her in the lovingly paternal manner that she craves; her naivete, his wily craftiness concealed beneath a mask of loving concern. Hawkes as Patrick is controlling although he rarely raises his voice, his wiry strength always vaguely threatening, his sharp features by turns softened to convey caring or honed to a razor edge to bend his followers to his will. He is the father-figure of the cult and they his children; they all work for him to make the farm self-sustaining, while he reminds them perpetually that it is he who sacrifices for them. He demands obedience and expects subservience, sexually and otherwise, and his established followers conspire with him to indoctrinate newcomers into the “family.” If you ever wondered how otherwise intelligent adults could get sucked into following a cult leader, Hawkes as Patrick shows you exactly how it could happen.

The film is thoughtfully, gorgeously composed and shot by Jody Lee Lipes (Tiny Furniture, Afterschool), with the halcyon imagery of the farm, shot in golden summer sunlight, contrasting with the darker, murkier scenes after Martha escapes that reflect her disturbed state of mind and the chaos her reappearance brings to her sister’s home. The script is crafted such that it would have worked just as well as a stage play, and filmed with an intimacy that allows Olsen’s background as a stage actress to effectively bring us into Martha’s fragile psyche. It’s a haunting, heart-rending performance, and between this and Silent House, Olsen is sure to be one of the most hotly buzzed actors at Sundance this year. She’s a talent — this year’s Carey Mulligan, perhaps?

And as for Durkin, he’s made a remarkably assured feature debut with Martha Marcy Mae Marlene (he previously produced Antonio Campos’ Afterschool) that marks him as a director to keep watching. This is one you want to catch if you’re at Sundance, or keep an eye out for afterward if you’re not.

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