“This is the first time a real audience has seen this. Park City doesn’t count.”

So said Allison Anders, following the Columbus, Ohio premiere of her new film, Things Behind the Sun, which kicked off the Wexner Center for the Arts’ monthlong retrospective of her work in February 2001. While it is an honor for an audience to be privileged enough to have a director introduce his or her new film to them, it was especially significant in this case, as Anders’ film is an intensely personal film, one which was no doubt difficult for her to make. That screening took place while the film’s future was still in doubt, before it had a distributor, and later it was picked up by the Showtime network, where it aired a number of times before finally being released on DVD.

Things Behind the Sun tells the story of Sherry McGrale (played by Kim Dickens) a Florida singer who continues to struggle with the lingering memories of her rape as a teenager. Years down the line, she has written a song about the incident and its effects on her, and has become a self-destructive alcoholic, having turned up drunk on the lawn of the same home on the same date three consecutive years. After her song becomes a hit among college students, an L.A. rock journalist named Owen (Gabriel Mann) comes to write a story about her, not only because he knew her when they were younger, but because he also knows the circumstances of the rape.

I’ve never been a huge Allison Anders fan, I admit. None of the films of hers which I’ve seen (Gas Food Lodging, Grace of My Heart, Sugar Town) has been bad, but when I heard the Wexner Center would be having a retrospective of her work I was a bit disappointed. After Richard Linklater and Todd Haynes, both of whom had created at least one masterpiece to date (and more since), Anders seemed to be a letdown. But they proved me wrong, as she had an ace up her sleeve. Things Behind the Sun is the best Allison Anders film I’ve seen yet, and one of the most personal and painful American films of recent years.

And yet, the film is so much more than the sum total of Anders’ painful recollections. One of the most striking aspects of the film’s early scenes is how fleshed-out the relationships between the characters are. Sherry’s band members are weary of her troubles and suspicious of Chuck (Don Cheadle), Sherry’s ex-boyfriend and manager, since he seems mostly concerned with her. There is an easy rapport between Owen and his fellow staff members at the magazine, glimpsed during an early-morning meeting. Even the owner of the bar where Sherry plays (Patsy Kensit) has a history with Chuck.

But while the film’s early scenes are good, they can hardly prepare us for the power of the final half-hour. After Owen tells Sherry why he’s really there, they share a long conversation on a pier. While the scene cuts back to her memories of the rape, it’s just as painful to watch the present-day characters, coming to grips with their own pain, and each others, unable to heal the rift that has occurred between them. Following this scene is one in which Owen tries to explain himself to Chuck, who becomes enraged and then talks about why he stands by Sherry, in a speech that Cheadle delivers just about perfectly. Finally, Sherry pays a visit to the house where the rape happened, and where she has paid her yearly drunken visit, but when the owner (Elizabeth Peņa) goes to confront her, she senses Sherry’s pain and decides to show her around the home instead. These three scenes, though far from being the only great scenes in Things Behind the Sun, are the key to its power.

The film’s music is also important here. Ever since her first films Anders has made music an important part of her films, and now she includes songs by The Left Banke and Charlie Rich, among others, songs which might not be at the top of today’s charts (or even the charts from when the songs were released) but nonetheless provide a more personal touch for the film. And Sherry’s new song is also her way of dealing with her suffering, which may have happened years ago but never really stopped.

Kim Dickens is excellent as Sherry. While she impressed me in Zero Effect, that film provided little insight into the depth of her performance here. Yes, Sherry drinks, she sleeps around, she behaves recklessly, but there is no joy here. We see that she uses all of these other painful, joyless activities to mask the deep hurt which has never faded inside her. Gabriel Mann is also good as Owen, and there is a good role for Don Cheadle as Chuck, who wants to protect her, and believes he can see the beautiful, sad little girl behind the wild exterior.

After the screening, Anders, who was seated two rows in front of me, stood up while a crowd of audience members gathered around her. As I usually do at events such as this one, I wanted to share with her my (completely unsolicited) opinion of the film, so I stood in line and waited. Eventually, she turned to me, and I said, “Thank you. I was... stunned.” Anticipating the usual polite thanks, I was shocked when her face lit up and she reached out and took both of my hands. “Thank you, thank you. What is your name?” I froze for a second, for this question was completely unexpected, and then I told her. She smiled and said, “like Paul McCartney. I won’t forget what you said. Thank you so much.” Then I thanked her and left the theatre. I’m glad she was grateful for my opinions. It was the least I could do for her, after the way she had shared so much with me in the two previous hours.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD