"Passion Fish" A Review by Linda Lopez McAlister February 27, 1993 For feminist film lovers John Sayles's new offering "Passion Fish" is a "must see" film. Sayles is among the very best U.S. independent filmmakers and though many of his films are about men and their struggles (for example "Mattewan," "Eight Men Out," and "City of Hope") when turns his attention to writing films about women such as "Lianna" and now "Passion Fish," the characters are drawn with such understanding, respect, and compassion that I have to call Sayles a feminist filmmaker. Sayles wrote, directed and edited "Passion Fish" while his wife and longtime collaborator Maggie Renzi was co-producer and acts in the film. It has received two well deserved Academy Award nominations--best original screenplay and best actress for Mary McDonnell's performance as May-Alice--and I'll be rooting for it to win them both. The film is a portrait of two women, May-Alice and Chantelle, each of whom has an urgent need for what the other can offer her at that particular point in her life. May-Alice is a New York actress with a role on a long-running soap opera (which she disparagingly refers to as "The Young and the Stupid") but as the film opens she has been hit by a taxi and rendered a parapelegic. She goes to the empty family home in the Louisiana bayou country where, as she says in a message she puts on her answering machine, she has crawled into a hole to die. All that the bitter May-Alice really wants to do is sit and drink, watch television, and feel sorry for herself. A series of nurses sent by an agency either quit or are fired before Chantelle (played by Alfre Woodard) arrives from Chicago with, as we discover, an urgent need to succeed in this job of caring for May-Alice. The battle of wills begins, for though May- Alice is "a bitch on wheels" Chantelle is determined not only to stick it out in this isolated and foreign place, but to do the job she was hired to do, namely give May-Alice the care she needs, whether she wants it or not. This entails finding ways to make her exercise and build upper-body strength and getting her to acknowledge and deal with her alcoholism. The power struggle between the white woman employer who wields the financial power and the Black woman employee who is able-bodied and has the power to dictate nearly every detail of the other woman's life is utterly compelling dramatic material. The gradual shifting of the relationship between the two women toward something that in the end approximates friendship is the most interesting aspect of the screenplay. As various vistors from May-Alice's and Chantelle's past lives wend their way to this isolated house, we find out more about who these women are and the worlds from which they have come. These visits are sometimes hilarious, especially the ones from May- Alice's Southern belle childhood friends and from some of her soap- opera colleagues. Sayles includes a long monologue by one of these actresses about filming a one-line part that had me, a former actress, in stitches. A visit from May-Alice's gay Uncle Max is a turning point in two ways: we see for the first time that May- Alice does have the capacity for affection for another person and he leaves her with a camera which encourages her finally to begin to look outward and think about something other than her own misfortune. Chantelle's visitors are less amusing; her former drug-dealing boyfriend from Chicago who has the decency to leave before she sees him once he's convinced that she's doing all right, and her stern, judgmental father who brings her little daughter to visit. May-Alice's interest in living is heightened by her becoming reacquainted with Rennie (David Strathern) a Cajun whom she had a crush on during high school and who now works as a handyman and tour guide to support his family of five and his religious zealot of a wife. Chantelle, the city girl, is not so taken at first with the Louisiana blacksmith "Sugar" LeDouce (played by Vondie Curtis- Hall) but eventually comes to appreciate his joie de vivre, his lovemaking, and his kindness. This is a film that doesn't neatly resolve all the loose ends in the final reel. Like the soap operas May-Alice spent so many years working in, and like life, this story is open-ended and ongoing. But the place at which we leave May-Alice and Chantelle is at least one in which the possibilities open to both of them are considerably better than those they faced when we first encountered them and we leave the theater hoping and believing that things will work out well for them as they continue to be "stuck with one another" at least for a while longer. Oh yes, you will find out about two-thirds of the way through the film why it's called "Passion Fish." For the WMNF Women's Show this is Linda Lopez McAlister on Women and Film.