Thank You For Her lists itself as an Award-Winning LGBTQ+ Film. A more accurate moniker would be to call the 159 minute feature a U-Film for universal. The Peyton Savington production is not about rights, identity, injustice or acceptance. It’s simply a dive into the layered pain of family, loss, forgiveness and redemption. The main characters just happen to be gay, and no matter your designation, your heart will soar with triumph.
Anna Drake (Tess Nottlemann) is a fantasy writer, and the film begins in her two different worlds. In voiceover, she’s reading off a letter that seems very typical for a teenager, while a medieval fantasy with knights, swords and honor play out.
Not quite the Lord of the Rings, the accompanied violin score of open-ended hope hits home with a commonplace message. These are real people, and true heroism doesn’t conquer at the tip of an expert sword. It comes from perseverance and rising above the plot points.
Still, the letter to an absent father doesn’t sound very out of the ordinary, so whatever the struggle of separation, the situation seems pretty manageable. But cutting back to real life, we find that Anna’s letter writing campaign is a source of conflict with her brother Cameron (Austin Nichols).
Quite an understatement, Nichols’ desperate plea for a communication discontinuation completely resets the harmony of the opening. Bolting from the scene, Anna takes to the road, and the drama is soon incited.
Distracted by her overbearing brother, the inattention brings in Lance (Katie Evans), and while the aforementioned relationship is on the way, the initial point of contact is definitely unique. Comedic but with a dose of creepiness, it looks like this movie might just go off the rails.
Add the odd behavior to the letters, the out of reach dad and the imposing behavior of big brother, we’re left with an uncertainty that hangs over the presentation and drives the plot forward.
The same goes with the cinematographic lighting of Ian Zabel. Almost wholly shot in the shadows, it’s like the characters are hiding and are trying to find themselves.
That aside, the initial awkwardness of serendipitous introduction does give way to a tender romance, but Anna and Lance must make the transition first. Both actresses doing their part, Evans is hard to resist. She has a snarky abrupt sarcasm that reels us in, and obviously Anna is not immune.
On the other end, Nottlemann fields the barbs, and her level headedness in the face of her co-star’s pleasing onslaught has the equal and opposite reaction. A couple they are, the amusement is boosted by the comic relief of Bea (Daniel Cole) and Gray (Sydney Nethercot).
Cole over dramatizes the ordinary to bang her beats, and the pervasive rhythm allows Evans’ cool deadpans to bring order to the chaos. As for Nottlemann’s sidekick, the gaps Nethercot displays in their cognitive abilities leave us plenty of room for laughter and provide a welcome break from the drama. At the same time, Nethercot emotes a duality that softens the blows and gives Anna a shoulder to regather herself.
Nonetheless, all the other issues aren’t going anywhere. A sentiment that gets re-spun in medieval form. As the two lovers take in the simplicity of the untouched wilderness and the unencumbered skies above, the idyllic fantasy is just begging for someone or something to spoil the moment.
The score suddenly changes to urgency, and Cameron menacingly appears. He wields his sword and Lance protects her maid. Acrimonious to the brim, a showdown in real life is obviously on the way.
The first time Anna has gone out with a girl, it’s easy to assume we’re entering into the LGBTQ+ zone. A U-Film it remains, though. Too bad for Anna and Lance, those concerns would have been a piece of cake compared to what is actually at stake.
Cameron doesn’t make it any easier either, and Nichols mother bear routine is almost terrifying. The actor is on any anomaly and interrogates like he must be ahead of any real or imagined catastrophes.
In counter, Nottlemann holds her own. So an intermediary would be nice and Lance fills the bill. Family, loss, forgiveness and redemption, the unraveling has us rejoicing and giving thanks for Lance and this film.
