Mickey and the Bear | SXSW 2019 Film Review

Full of strong-will and compassion, Mickey bares the weight of her household on her shoulders. Her opioid-addicted, veteran father taking her through his roller coaster ride of emotions leaves Mickey with a tough decision: stay home and care for Hank (James Badge Dale), or leave to fulfill her own passions?

One of the hardest decisions a young adult faces is when to leave their family to pursue one’s own life. The decision becomes increasingly more difficult when you’re the backbone of the family, much like Mickey (Camila Morrone) is. The way this story is built might lead you to believe that it’s this really fast-paced film, filled with dramatic act after dramatic act, but it’s actually quite different. Normally, I struggle with slow burns because the pacing feels off, but Mickey and the Bear manages to compliment this technique by gradually increasing the tension until the ultimately satisfying payoff. Primarily, though, this is a character piece, as we see the struggle of both Mickey’s predicament and also the sympathy we extend to her father seeing the narrative unfold through her eyes.

There are a few things that stand out and deeply benefit the film. The first is in relation to the aforementioned story-telling perspective. Seeing the story through one character’s eyes is nothing new nor ground-breaking, but in Mickey and the Bear, Mickey’s sympathy for her dad and the way the ups-and-downs fluctuate allow for us to experience it in the same way she is; the character is so compelling and Morrone’s performance is so strong that we can’t help but feel exactly how Mickey is feeling.

The second thing that feels remarkable in the film is not only do we feel sympathy and love for Mickey, which is extended onto her father, but even though he’s mostly lost and broken, we still come to understand in some respect what drove him there without ridiculous exposition. This is mostly implied through dialogue and physical body cues which help to further the story in a way that is more subtle than explanatory. Hank is obviously a tumultuous character to feel for, but as an audience member, we can relate to seeing this very real set of experiences line up for a person and knock them out like a bowling ball going for a strike.

And finally – the most important and shocking aspect of the film is how perfectly laid out the ending was. Not often can you say that you fully appreciate the roller coaster ride the filmmakers just took you on, and although there were small bouts of the aforementioned slow burn, it pays off in the end. The revelations of the third act are utterly horrifying, but don’t do so just to shock; it makes sense why all of our characters have lined up for this horrible and yet, somehow, beautiful conclusion. After all, most of us experience trauma in some form and life ain’t a bed of roses, so why should we expect anything different from a very character-driven film piece like this?

Tragedy strikes in all forms throughout life, but our response is what differentiates us between idly accepting the grief and striving to overcome it no matter the consequences, and that’s an aspect writer and director, Annabelle Attanasio, examines in Mickey and the Bear. These powerful performances align wonderfully with introspective exploration in this beautifully tragic coming-of-age tale that will leave you dazed.