Scarborough: Homegrown Drama Offers Powerful Portrait of Kids on the Edge

By Thom Ernst

Rating: A

The gods aren’t always available to oversee the good intentions of young filmmakers, but for Sasha Nakai’s and Rich Williamson’s Scarborough, the gods are fully aligned and present. But even gods know that a film’s success is not the sole effort of one entity.

To that, I turn my attention to Nakai and Williamson, who bring to their debut feature film the combined skills of editor, cinematographer, producer, documentarian, and undoubtedly a slew of other qualifications to round out the essentials of a film set. The result of their combined efforts, along with a cast that pulls through in ways that seem surreal, is one of the most harmoniously synched portraits of childhood in chaos.

Nakai and Williamson do not take the responsibility of putting Catherine Hernandez’s words to the screen lightly. It helps that Hernandez writes the screenplay based on her acclaimed novel. However, a compelling script, even one written by the original author, risks disaster if not in the hands of people who care about the material.

Scarborough runs along a stream of consciousness that branches into more tributaries than the Amazon. There is a lot in Scarborough to unpack. It’s a film not easily imagined based on an elevator pitch, at least not to any effect that adequately serves the story’s magnitude, which is, in fact, many stories.

With Scarborough, Hernandez, a playwright, author, and actor, creates a story of three children and the spattering of adults who inhabit their world.

Laura (Anna Claire Beitel) is a young girl imprisoned in fear and mute obedience, trading off on the neglect of living with a substance-using mother (Kristen MacCulloch) for the volatile and racially charged whims of her father (Conor Casey). Laura imagines life above ground, playing mother bird to paper-bird cut-outs, enviously eyeing the dead leaves still clinging to the branches of trees and singing songs about lost baby ducks.

Sylvie (Meykia Fox) lives with her mother (Cherish Violet Blood), a sickly father, and Johnny (Felix Jedi Ingram Isaac), a younger brother with developmental issues that the local walk-in clinic declines to diagnose.

Granted, their visit to the clinic is held hostage by the empty threats of an outraged client demanding they stand by their "hypocritical" oath and issue him drugs. Sylvie’s mother tends to daily disappointments of living in a low-income neighbourhood with patience but a firm display of self-respect.

Bing (Liam Diaz) is a courteous, soft-spoken child who endures the taunts of bullies and the unfortunate psychotic outbursts of a mentally unstable father. Bing considers his future life a saint or perhaps a school crossing guard since retirement is not an acceptable occupational goal. He survives on the grace of his mother’s unflappable emotional support.

The three children meet at an experimental community program run by Ms. Hina (Aliya Kanani).

In many ways, Ms. Hina is the most traditional in the film and, subsequently, the easiest character with which to find fault. Ms. Hina is saintly. She sees and acts on the needs of the children and the families. She can reach out and break down the barriers holding Laura captive but is helpless in dismantling the rage of Laura’s father.

Is Ms. Hina one-dimensional? Perhaps, but only in as much as the story has room to tell. But Kanani’s performance is decidedly not one-dimensional. Kanani exudes gentleness and kindness even in the face of opposition, except when confronting her supervisor’s cold approach to the program and the community they’re serving.

I would argue that Scarborough is packed (onscreen and off) with big-name stars that you haven’t heard of yet, and, in some cases, might not hear of again. But there are performances in this movie that carry over its two-hour running time with such naturalistic delivery that it feels more documented than acted. Not surprising given that the filmmakers have a history of making short documentaries.

Since seeing Scarborough, I’ve been thinking a lot about the filmmakers. I worry that if I were to meet them, I would be paralyzed with awe (unseemly in anyone, unforgivable in a critic), marveling at their capacity for compassion long before I’m adequately able to process their achievement.

I try to imagine the kind of people Nakai, Williamson, and Hernandez must be; people who’ve learned to trust intuition over logic, unfettered by the restrictions of what’s proven for the opportunity of what’s possible.

The filmmakers will balk at my praise, arguing that the story of Scarborough’s success belongs to many. It’s the kind of thing filmmakers of a certain ilk will say when championing substance over process. Hernandez might cite experiences that inspired the book, while Nakai and Williamson might claim a familiarity to the individuals they’ve been entrusted to give voice to.

I am told there are flaws in the film that need to be addressed (including the benevolence of Ms. Hina), but at the time of this writing, those flaws seem vague and unimportant. Still, there will be some who will reference an unfair racial imbalance.

I assume it references the film’s non-BIPOC characters, who are crude, naive, condescending, and bureaucratic. There is even a suggestion that an inoffensive non-BIPOC lady with a pregnant dog is running a dog mill.

It’s a valid observation but not as a complaint.

Scarborough is a film mainly observed through the distinct perspective of BIPOC characters. And the struggles of the non-BIPOC characters, particularly Laura’s parents, crippled by their demons, are impossible to support but not beyond empathy.

I recently read a tweet describing a specific style of filmmaking as “race porn for white people.” An amusing and fitting description of films designed to incite prefabricated moral outrage. The twitterer (BIPOC if Twitter account profiles are reliable) took exception to BIPOC characters presented from a place of hardship and persecution. We can discuss how you feel about that tweet later. But that’s not Scarborough. I think it’s safe to say that Scarborough doesn’t much care for outrage—morally or otherwise.

Simply said, there is magic in this film, rising out of simple observations, allowing the camera to linger through moments of play, pausing for glimpses of charity while holding fast to the possibility of tragedy. A film that nurtures a balance of trust with betrayal.

It’s been six months since Scarborough’s initial screening at TIFF, so I don’t think it’s premature to praise it as one of the year’s best films. And not just the best Canadian film, but one of the year’s best.

Scarborough. Directed by Sasha Nakai and Rich Williamson. Starring Anna Claire Beitel, Kristen MacCulloch, Conor Casey, Meykia Fox, Cherish Violet Blood, Felix Jedi Ingram Isaac, Liam Diaz and Aliya Kanani. Now playing in select theatres across Canada.