11:11 begins with a young man (L.A. Williams) on the phone with his mother. Screaming into the phone in frustration, she is quite the handful, and despite the uplifting melody and lyrics of WEARETHEGOOD’s The Dark, it’s clear that he has paid a price for her deficiencies. An addict, the interaction has him whipping out the heroin, but fortunately, he’s actually saved by the bell. The clock strikes 11:11 and his guardian angel shows us the power of having only one person who’s got your back.
That said, no matter where he was, the brother always took the familiar time marker to bother his sister, and in this case, the reminder put the pause button on his drug usage.
So the detriment averted, the dire moment gives way to an easy turn. The next day, Williams kicks back with his sister (Fadhia Carmelle Marcelin), and the seating arrangement shows how second nature they are to each other’s feelings. Outside her apartment, they sit on the concrete and lean up against the wall like they’ve hashed it out here many times before.
In keeping, the conversation starts out very casually. The brother somewhat randomly has picked up his sister’s old tape recorder and expresses a liking in contrast to today’s digitally enhanced world. “I just like buttons,” he doles a little sarcasm.
Not without purpose, we get the synergy that Director Lisa Singletary is attempting to convey. Williams and Marcelin’s laid-back banter that pokes fun and self-deprecates expresses a deep, long established trust. Alongside, the actors’ chilled body language and facial expressions show no hesitation when it comes to digressing, because both understand the meaty part of the dialogue will eventually come due.
Still, they meander into a diatribe about her uncomfortable couch and delve into the meaning of signs. Thus, the comfort level between the two gets doubled down so we know the heaviness will still keep an element of lightness.
As a result, the realism comes across in spades, and the appealing punchlines that arise, do more than just make us laugh. Sorry to all the movies that have an easy solution to life’s complexities, no matter how wise your sister is, she’s not going to fix your problems.
And over the course of 13 meaningful minutes, neither character tries to fight the fact. So when the transition is finally made to the serious side, the cinematographic camerawork by Katie Walker doesn’t have to work hard to capture the sleight changeup in the characters’ demeanor, and the overall intentions become clear.
The opportunity for the brother to give voice is the means to its own end, and her willing ear reinforces. Mother, the drugs, and his uncertain future are simply window dressing, because it’s the sounding board that implies the way forward. In struggle, the back and forth expresses hope, and as long as this relationship endures – so will they.
