Little Accidents is Sara Colangelo’s first film. It is set in a West Virginia coal mining community after a mine collapsed. The paths of Amos, a lone, injured survivor, Owen, a child of one of the dead miners and Diana, a wife of one of the mining executives, whom Elizabeth Banks plays, cross. It is one hour forty-five minutes.
Initially I really enjoyed Little Accidents. The opening is amazing. It is shot beautifully, and as a viewer, you are carried away by the playful tone, which is then interrupted in the next scene with questions about what we just saw. If we cannot answer them (and a viewer cannot because I rewound and rewatched the scene), then how could Amos, a now shattered, withdrawn man? It is one of those brilliant, rare moments when a viewer instinctually connects with a character. The palette of the film is cold, blue grey. In an economical amount of time, through a single character, we get a sense of the man and the man as a microcosm of the community, before and after the accident.
Little Accidents also captures class in America perfectly without being pedantic in these opening scenes. The miners’ lifestyle is visually compared and contrasted to the executives. The use of space, light and quality and arrangement of objects silently show the chasm between the two. The film seems to suggest quietly segregated worlds even though everyone lives in the same towns. There are three types of ground that act as fertile crossroads: the mine, the church and nature. For example, the mining accident creates chaos because it creates a clash where the two classes have to interact.
Little Accidents is a trio of character studies, which was probably too ambitious, especially when the movie begins to feel less like a documentary about life in mining country and more like a soap opera set in West Virginia. Colangelo was so eager to create more opportunities for the characters to interact that gradually the melodramatic elements of the story overtake the less flashy, but more emotionally resonant themes in the story.
Little Accidents initially works as a meditation on loss of ability, solidarity and life. The most electric scenes are the unexpected ways that Amos’ community breaks with and stands by him in surprising ways. These understated scenes felt organic, especially since the pressure came from counterintuitive relationships. The film is sympathetic to the mining executives while never minimizing their fault, but if you are expecting a drama about how a corporation bullied a little guy, keep moving. The call is coming from inside the house. He gets torn about the right way to go forward with his life. An accident imbues him with more incidental power and responsibility than he ever asked to receive. It would have been an interesting for a film to finally grapple with the American tragedy thrusting activism on ordinary people. What if the person did not rise to the challenge, refused the spotlight without seeming like a coward and chose himself? We are so used to seeing people rise to the occasion: kids who survived Parkland shooting, black mothers of murdered children, etc.
I was excited to see Little Accidents because I enjoy supporting women filmmakers, and it was an opportunity to see Banks acting. She has range. Her character is sadly predictable. The mining accident’s ensuing chaos distances her close family. She only begins to wake up to the sorrow all around her because it touches her, and she is no longer busy with family life. Unfortunately her story goes in a disappointing, conventional direction. I got the usual disaffected suburban mom waking up and discovering that she is dissatisfied with her shallow life. It does not matter that the catalyst was unexpected. I would have preferred a less artificially constructed story arc if the film followed Owen’s mother, Kendra, whom indie actor Chloe Sevigny plays. She is a widow and working class mom who does her best but is completely missing the mark on actually doing the best. I was also intrigued by Nellie, a church member who has more anger than she initially seems to possess when initially introduced. I find it fascinating when women filmmakers choose cling to conventional tastes by choosing characters that I believe men would choose—not the working class women, but the pretty, trophy wife. It is a way of consuming class and elevating oneself without having financial means or perhaps Colangelo relates to her more. I definitely relate to Nellie more. Unfortunately Colangelo seemed more interested in having three separate characters cross paths and playing with those interactions, even if those interactions are ridiculously tropey, than really digging into the more ambiguous, textured, quotidian parts of life that she did an excellent job briefly and initially exploring.
Owen’s story probably needed to be a separate movie, and even with the melodramatic notes, it could have worked. Owen’s story is probably the most complete of all three. Little Accidents makes the classic first movie mistakes by trying to do everything because the filmmaker is worried that will not get another opportunity. I am disinclined to enjoy boy protagonists. I probably would not have watched that movie. While I found Amos’ story to be the most innovative, Owen’s story delivers in terms of a traditional character story arc. It is also the most ridiculous and contrived. Wasn’t the mining accident enough? It felt as if Thomas Hardy started to take a crack at him. Unlike the French, American filmmakers cannot just show characters dealing with death in a realistic way. We have to jazz it up with mystery and sex. Colangelo completely punked out and ran away from her premise, which initially felt sober, real and clear-eyed. It is as if she is a cook with perfect simple ingredients, did not trust herself, then threw parsley on as a garnish, drenched it with truffle oil then flambeed it for no reason.
Owen’s story does not really need Amos and Diane’s stories. Another woman character could play a Diane figure without being Diane, and the same applies to Amos. Diane’s story does not exist without Amos or Owen. Amos’ story could also stand alone, but he needs Diane and Owen to reach his denouement. The most emotionally powerful scenes are between Banks and Jacob Lofland, who plays Owen, near the denouement.
It is indicative of Colangelo’s true interest. It is not the mining disaster or the class issues. It is this little boy’s parentification and survivor’s guilt. Was Colangelo aware that she prioritized Owen’s story, abandoned Amos and neglected Diane’s? Colangelo’s sophomore film, The Kindergarten Teacher, is in my queue and has a woman protagonist paired with a little boy. I will probably be able to answer my questions after watching it.
Once I realized Little Accidents’ real focus, I emotionally checked out of the whole movie while hoping that it would finish soon. I felt cheated and cannot recommend that you waste your time similarly unless you go into the whole proceeding expecting a bait and switch. Colangelo definitely has talent, but just the heart wants what the heart wants. Her mind wants to tackle socioeconomic issues mixed with a mature meditation on ambiguous loss, but her heart wants to tell a little boy’s story of misplaced guilt.
