A Little Prayer

A Little Prayer is one of those films that comes along all too rarely. Writer and director Angus MacLachlan, who wrote the screenplay for Junebug, has fashioned a simple yet powerful story about a family in crisis. Yet, this is not the sort of crisis audiences are accustomed to seeing onscreen. Instead of threats from without, is about how the inner lives of these people have brought them to this point. Featuring a knockout cast, the film is one of those works that genuinely surprises just by how emotionally resonant and honest it is.

In the film, David Strathairn plays Billy, owner of a sheet metal factory. He has a son named David, married to Tammy, and a daughter, Patti. He has been married for decades to Venida, who works as a living history guide. David and Bill are veterans of different wars, and something, perhaps because of his experiences in the war, has driven a wedge between David and Tammy, who is much beloved by her in-laws. This becomes the crux of the story.

A Little Prayer does not rely on histrionics. This is a film about people and moments, yet it is never dull or glacial. It runs a brisk hour and a half. It is beautifully shot, with lovely framing that highlights how the film is a look into the private lives of others, yet without revealing everything. MacLachlan does not go for flashy tricks of the camera but rather chooses what suits mood and character best. It is deceptively simple, with much conveyed because of how it is shot. This is a film that understands the lens is a way of looking for characters and audience alike.

The film has a steady build, introducing its characters, setting and situations, while allowing us to get to know, like or at least become interested, in these people. The second act does a fine job of moving things along and building to what is certainly one of the finest third acts of the year. It is here that the film shines. Some movies try to use pop psychology or easy talking points to prove bona fides and manipulate the audience, but this film avoids it.

The third act is essentially a series of conversations, each startling in their clarity and honesty. Each extremely moving because of how completely the actors have become their characters. MacLachlan and the cast have wrought something special with this one, by remembering the power of the little moments. This is no melodrama, and questions will go unanswered. This is not exploitive, cloying or irresponsible.

Strathairn underplays many moments, to the benefit of his costars. Janey Levy, as Tammy, and Dascha Polanco, as an employee at the sheet metal factory, both get scenes where he is more than generous with them. It is not so much a reactive as interactive experience for the actors. You can completely purchase the notion that these people have known one another for years. It is also in these scenes that the script soars highest, with sterling examples of how to avoid cliches.

What flaws exist here are mainly due to the story concerning Patti, played by Anna Camp. She seems, at first, to exist to counterbalance the peace and harmony of the relationship her parents have with her sister-in-law. Yet, even this can be seen as a fake, because ultimately her story is key to understanding how these seemingly wonderful people wound up where they are. Camp is completely different here compared to previous screen roles, and when she leaves, the film changes. Yet her time, and that of her daughter, feel like they serve a function rather than being totally organic. This may seem like a major problem but in a film where everything is so tightly woven, it can be excused because of the conclusions. This review has avoided spoilers because it is one of those works where you need to go into it as cold as possible and take the journey of discovery with these people. Please, do take the journey. This is quietly among the years most worthy watches.