who am I? Where do I fit in? Am I somewhat unfit? Will I be an ex-virgin? Questions like this definitely happen to every teen at one time or another. But only one out of every 5,000 females accesses them for the same diagnostic reason as the “Bloody Hell” heroine. Molly McGlynn’s second feature centers on a 16-year-old girl who is disturbed to discover she has a rare congenital disorder that greatly complicates her nascent sexuality, formative gender identity, and already basic sexual plumbing. This Canadian sitcom that premiered at SXSW is a little less focused and effective than the writer-director’s previous “Mary Goes Round,” but it’s still accomplished, and similarly renders the sometimes self-defeating antics of a hero he has a lot of problems about. Apply it.
Lindy (Maddie Ziegler) is a newcomer in suburban Sudbury, Ontario, with mother Rita (Emily Hampshire), a therapist still working to bring her life back to life years after the girl’s father abandoned them both. By contrast, adjusting to an unfamiliar high school seems to be going fairly well for Lindy, who instantly makes a best friend in fellow track team member Vivian (Djouliet Amara). She also develops a crush on classmate Adam (D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai), and the feeling appears to be mutual.
Excited anticipation leads Lindy as far as seeing a gynecologist for birth control pills. But since she hasn’t started menstruating yet, she is being given a routine check-up. This leads to a referral for her to a specialist, who harshly announces hard-to-digest news: She has Meyer-Rokitansky-Koster-Hauser syndrome, a condition that begins in the fetus. In Lindy’s own case, this means she was born without a uterus, cervix, or most of the vaginal canal; you will not have a period, or be able to conceive a child; He will find that it is “almost impossible to have sex without manual or surgical assistance.” The only immediate, partial solution offered comes in the form of plastic expanders, which you’ll need to exercise daily, because (as a more encouraging medical doctor puts it) “The vagina is an amazing muscle and…you’re just going to have to stretch it.”
The discovery of an intimate anatomical “difference” leaves our heroine to shame and bewilderment. She fiercely resists her mother’s attempts to find support, and absolutely refuses to discuss this crisis with anyone else. However, her friends definitely notice that something is wrong, not least of all with Adam, who only interprets her sudden dematerialization as a personal rejection. In trying to understand where she fits in now, Lindy attends – and then runs away – an LGBTQ students’ meeting after school. She also develops a possibly flirtatious friendship with Vivian’s bisexual acquaintance, Jax (Kay Griffin), who identifies as “bisexual” due to some of her anatomical birth abnormalities.
Everyone in her immediate circle is deeply concerned about Lindy’s sudden, mercurial and secretive behaviour. But she can’t bring herself to trust anyone, which leads to some reckless behavior—eventually including a drunken speech to someone close to the stranger that makes her attitude very public indeed, inviting derision from her less sympathetic peers.
As of late, “Bloody Hell” has refrained from teamwork, providing a fair amount of information about MRKH and related matters as part of the main protagonist’s self-education. Even the climactic explosion of chatter (particularly the “big speech” facing all the bullies) works well enough in a dramatic sense. And Lindy’s impulsive and impulsive behaviors often make sense for her age – notwithstanding that these coping mechanisms often make things worse, or that more mature viewers might wonder why she doesn’t tell her close relatives what she’s been hiding from them. .
However, McGlynn’s script feels meandering at times, cramming too many ideas into it, and losing narrative strength with too much – and/or not enough – time devoted to the Hampshire mother. The actress (at the same time at the SXSW premiere, “Annex”) is good as usual. But Rita has her own set of issues, and they’re not developed well enough to seem like anything more than an unnecessary, intermittent distraction from the central character’s complex enough predicament. In contrast, “Mary Goes Round” dealt with alcoholism, dysfunctional family dynamics and more in a way that’s smoother in humor and seriousness, running in just 86 minutes to boot.
All of the young actors are attractive and convincing, even if they seem a little long in the tooth for their characters’ purported ages. Aesthetically, the film is a step up from the director’s previous feature, with Nina Djacic’s sharp cinematography and Thea Hollatz’s production design (particularly for the main characters’ bedrooms) providing a slick look. There’s also a crowded soundtrack, though some cuts used by many artists are more welcome than others.
While imperfect, Bloody Hell provides interesting food for thought with an important general point made in a non-preachy fashion: Nature does indeed have room for divergence in sexual and sexual mores, no matter how loudly political or religious conservatives protest these days. Otherwise. .
