Dir. Asia Argento, US/UK/France/Japan, 2004, 97 mins
Cast: Asia Argento, Jimmy Bennett, Dylan & Cole Sprouse, Peter Fonda, Marilyn Manson, Winona Ryder
The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked (Jeremiah 1 7:9)
According to the Bible, every human suffers from an evil heart that lies to them and causes them to commit deeds that they do not really wish to do, with the result being the burden of guilt, and the only salvation is through the Lord. Who are we to argue? J.T Leroy doesn’t – instead, his autobiographical tales, on which Argento’s film is based, lay bare a painful journey in which he seeks to find himself amidst unspeakable acts of neglect and abuse. Born in 1980, both Sarah, published in 2000, and The Heart is Deceitful Above All things, are his attempts to deal with the devastating maelstrom of his younger life. The biblical reference is not a judgement, more of an explanation on LeRoy’s part, but its use serves as a subconscious signifier to the audience as to where to first look for the root of his pain.
Jeremiah (Bennett) has enjoyed the relative comfort of living with foster parents since being born to a 14 year old mother, Sarah (Argento) but the idyll soon changes when he is returned to her and, his attempts at escape thwarted, is forced to live a seedy nomadic life as they travel around, his less-than-trailer-trash mum plying her sexual wares, and hitching up with a succession of low-life surrogate fathers. Jeremiah is routinely abused by both mother and her lovers – physically and mentally – until at last, having been left with a paedophile, Jeremiah is found and placed in the custody of his religious zealot grandparents (Fonda and Muti). The extreme juxtaposition of values and lifestyles between them and Sarah allows insight – and, though we don’t condone it – some understanding as to why Sarah behaves in the way she does; it is her way of escaping her own restricted and contorted childhood. Jeremiah remains with his grandparents for some time, growing accustomed to their austere way of life. However, events take another schizophrenic turn for Jeremiah (now played by Dylan and Cole Sprouse) when his mother returns and kidnaps him, along with her current liaison, Kenny (Matt Schulze).
Having existed in two radically different but equally damaging environments, Jeremiah is now one confused young man. Alongside this, having been dressed as a girl by his mother, he is unsure of his sexual identity and, indeed, as to his identity as a whole. Despite the years of abuse, mother and son love each other as far as it is possible for them to do so, and there are moments of tenderness along the way, but the sting in the tail is that it is the son who swears to protect his downbeaten mother, and that we know that this is not a happy ending, but a brief interlude before the onslaught continues. Jeremiah has no role models to show him how to be or love like a member of the human race. Increasingly, he turns to Sarah more and more, copying her, making her an example to follow even though she should be anything but. In one scene, we see him seduce another of her boyfriends, Jackson (Marilyn Manson) but, while the editing makes it clear it is a young boy doing so, it is Sarah we witness acting out the ritual. Whilst this device allows for the audience to watch the uncomfortable scene between the minor and the older man without being too shocked, it also posits Jeremiah as Sarah, presenting his warped fantasies of being like her in order to be close to her. The fact that it is a grotesque distortion on the already twisted Oedipus Complex – he loves his mother but instead of killing the lover he in effect becomes the mother and seduces the man himself – demonstrates the perverse complexities of his life.
The dynamics between Argento and the actors who play her sons is moving, intense and frequently disturbing, and the director has delivered a film that is tough and naturalistic, unflinchingly so. She has enticed performances that are well played, creating three-dimensional characters with a diverse range of emotions and failings, but with the occasional hint of humanity, had the right conditions allowed it to flourish.
Is the heart deceitful above all things? Is it wicked? Certainly Jeremiah commits acts which cause him great angst and confusion. There has been some criticism over the film having a slightly more upbeat ending than the book. An attempt to pander to audiences? Or was JT LeRoy’s happy ending in the writing of the book itself, having purged his guilt in one long cathartic release and the film’s ending is a way of showing how he himself has been able to move on because of it? I’d like to believe the latter.
Ann Watson
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