Mike Leigh, a towering figure and a great humanist in contemporary British cinema, continues his exploration of human complexity with Hard Truths. This latest offering returns to modern-day London and reunites him with Marianne Jean-Baptiste and Michele Austin, whose performances have been rightly celebrated by the National Society of Film Critics. In what feels like an unintentional counterpoint to his 2008 film Happy-Go-Lucky, Leigh examines the crushing weight of existence, delivering a raw and unvarnished portrait of familial bonds and personal despair.
At the heart of the film is Pansy, portrayed with electrifying intensity by Jean-Baptiste. Pansy’s days are marked by anger and bitterness, her interactions punctuated by relentless criticism and sharp-tongued barbs. The film begins with a jolt as Pansy awakens suddenly, her breath catching as if she’s been pulled from a haunting dream—a moment that encapsulates the turmoil of her life. She moves through life in a constant state of confrontation, berating her husband Curtley (David Webber), their withdrawn son Moses (Tuwaine Barrett), and strangers alike, whether at the supermarket checkout or in a car park. Her meticulously maintained home, devoid of warmth, reflects her internal state: controlled yet suffocating. Curtley, resigned and silent, seems paralysed in the face of her anger, while Moses retreats into his own world, wandering aimlessly through the streets of London.
In stark contrast is Pansy’s younger sister Chantelle, played with radiant charm by Austin. A hairdresser with a nurturing spirit, Chantelle’s life is a stark counterpoint to Pansy’s turmoil. Her home emits warmth and vitality, filled with the laughter of her two accomplished daughters—Aleisha (Sophia Brown), a trainee lawyer, and Kayla (Ani Nelson), who works in skincare. Chantelle embodies happiness, grace and joy, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the film’s heavier themes.
A significant turning point occurs when Pansy and Chantelle visit their mother’s grave on Mother’s Day. Though their mother appeared to have a stronger bond with Chantelle, it was Pansy who faced the devastating reality of discovering her death and likely shouldering the burden of her care in her later years.
What makes Hard Truths remarkable is its refusal to indulge in clichés. Pansy’s life is not one of economic deprivation; she enjoys a comfortable middle-class existence in a city where such stability is increasingly rare. Her suffering is not external but deeply internal, rooted in something elusive and enigmatic. Similarly, Chantelle’s life, while more joyous, is not idealised—her daughters face their own struggles, subtly woven into the narrative to remind us of life’s complexities.
Jean-Baptiste delivers a tour-de-force performance that invites scrutiny and analysis. Why is Pansy so angry? How did she become this way? Leigh, as ever, refrains from offering clear explanations. Leigh’s world, shaped by his distinctive collaborative process and crafted with painstaking authenticity, overflows with subtle hints and layered nuances, yet steadfastly refuses to offer clear-cut explanations. This ambiguity is both frustrating and liberating, reminding us that life itself has not clear solution.
Hard Truths is not about resolutions but about the messy, painful, and often inexplicable nature of being human. It is a masterful, compassionate exploration of the burdens we carry and the small, flickering connections that sustain us.As the credits roll, a simple yet devastating exchange between the sisters lingers:
“Why are you so angry? Why can’t you enjoy life?”
“I don’t know.”
Photography: Getty Images and the BFI London Film Festival