“A stunningly beautiful social realist drama that handles its themes with elegance and empathy.”
Having a family member with any form of dementia can be a harrowing experience, especially since it is an illness that affects over 55 million people worldwide. This means that many of us know someone who has some form of it, and considering it is essentially a terminal illness for which no known cure exists, it can be even more daunting to witness those we love battle with the disease. Many artists have taken it upon themselves to use their craft as a means to explore their own experiences of seeing those they love slip away over time, and the results are always profoundly moving, especially since they tend to be quite detailed in how they explore dementia as a subject, and how it impacts not only the patient but also those around them. In her incredible directorial debut Familiar Touch, Sarah Friedland tells the story of Ruth, who is placed into a care home by her son. He, together with her doctors and the rest of the family, have agreed that she is unable to live on her own anymore, necessitating such a difficult decision. Over time Ruth oscillates between rebelling against the system and quietly accepting that this is her life for the time being. She still remains committed to showing that her mental faculties are not nearly as absent as everyone expects, despite clear indications that she is rapidly declining and is in severe need of help to live out the rest of her life in peace and comfort. A stunningly beautiful social realist drama that handles its themes with elegance and empathy, Familiar Touch tells a vital story that is both haunting and poetic, and immediately establishes Friedland as an exceptional new voice in contemporary cinema.
Dementia in all of its forms is a disease that impacts many families, and still remains a mystery to the medical community. There is a general medical understanding of its causes, but not enough to be at the point where it can be cured or even treated effectively beyond ensuring those living with it can be comfortable and out of harm’s way as far as possible. Familiar Touch doesn’t promote itself as definitive in any way, but rather uses a prevalent subject to tell the story of a woman who spent most of her life being fiercely independent, but who has regressed to the point where allowing her to maintain such a lifestyle would be actively detrimental to both her health and safety. The story takes the form of a day-to-day account of her life in an elderly care facility, a place that does what it can to ensure the residents are not only comfortable but feel loved and (perhaps most importantly) remain visible. Far too many stories about these institutions portray them as cold, clinical locations where the elderly are sent, not solely for the sake of their wellbeing, but rather to alleviate the burden on their family. It’s a cynical perspective, but one that is nonetheless present in the discourse, and which Friedland works to redefine through this beautifully moving testament to one individual’s struggle with her disease and her attempts to fight against something she knows she will not be able to overcome, regardless of how much effort she puts in.
Many of the traditional talking points related to this subject do emerge throughout the film – the melancholy of trying to recall memories that are no longer there, the feeling of losing one’s grip on reality and the sense of isolation that comes when being told that you are no longer able to be independent – but the director refuses to limit the film to only these themes. Instead, Friedland goes in search of a more meaningful, nuanced approach that doesn’t trivialize dementia or view it as something that can be easily reduced to a few key terms, but rather creates a deeply moving character study. Part of the film’s impact is in the simplicity of the story and its execution – Friedland is clearly not interested in peddling the same trite techniques and narrative elements that we often find in films based around this subject matter. There’s a lack of heavy-handed posturing, and the film is also far from condescending, looking at the subject matter through a humane perspective, albeit one that is still based on facts rather than cliches usually associated with such stories. More than anything else, the director approaches these themes from a place of profound sensitivity, affording her characters (and by extension the real-world people whom they represent) the compassion and visibility they not only deserve but are entitled to have, yet are so rarely given. Familiar Touch avoids heavy-handed emotions, and instead presents the subject matter in stark, clear terms that prove how Friedland is wholly in command of her craft and the underlying ideas that inform this film.
The role of Ruth in Familiar Touch falls into that rare category of characters that any actor (especially those of a certain age) would leap at the opportunity to portray, but where not everyone could capture the intricacies of the character in the way it was intended. To call Kathleen Chalfant’s performance in this film incredible is a severe understatement – this is towering work that feels so genuinely moving that we struggle to comprehend the fact that she is an actor playing a part, rather than drawing from her own firsthand experience. Her performance is the kind where we feel the membrane that separates the art from the audience gradually disintegrating, allowing us unfettered access into the mind of the character. All of this is accomplished through Chalfant’s extraordinary performance – the film avoids making use of narration or flashbacks, so every bit of context about this character and her life is delivered through her movements, facial expressions and spoken dialogue, all of which lay the foundation for one of the year’s most astonishing performances. Chalfant is a veteran of stage and screen, so Friedland was assured that her creation was in good hands – and much like the rest of the film, she approaches the character from a subtle place in which the smallest details say more than any frenetic acting ever could. It’s a towering performance from someone who carefully develops her character to be composed of multiple layers, setting the foundation for one of the most extraordinary pieces of acting of the past year.
Considering the weight of the subject matter, it’s surprising that Familiar Touch managed to be such a heartwarming, almost effervescent affair. This is mostly because Friedland has a clear vision, which is primarily to avoid overwrought emotions and instead focus on the smaller details. It is arguably a film in which nothing much happens – we follow the day-to-day routine of the protagonist as she comes to terms with her new lifestyle, something she initially rebels against before accepting it as a reality. It is even possible to assert a reading of this film through a discussion on the Five Stages of Grief, which are certainly present throughout – but doing so would detract from the simple, elegant nature of the story, which is built not on overly didactic, academic explorations of the process of growing old and living with a debilitating disease, but rather a subtle, nuanced slice-of-life drama in which we see a character who represents many people in the same position. Friedland immediately establishes herself as an exciting new voice in contemporary cinema, with her delicate control of this material being coupled with a genuinely moving command of emotions, resulting in a poetic ode to the people who suffer from dementia but still fight for their identity and right to live fulfilling, meaningful lives. Filled with heart and soul, as well as a few well-placed touches of humour that aid in alleviating the weight of the serious subject matter, Familiar Touch is a truly beautiful and life-affirming drama about an issue that is rarely given such a compassionate perspective.