From director Marley Morrison, Sweetheart is a charming film with a deceptively simple premise. An awkward and sulky teenager called AJ, portrayed with a realistic adolescent temperament by Nell Barlow, is dragged to a holiday caravan park by the sea with her somewhat overbearing family. Here she grapples with her sense of alienation and desire to escape domesticity. It is a classic coming-of-age tale within a very British scenario. The reasons for AJ’s unhappiness are not just teenage angst, but a more existential longing for recognition of her sexual identity, which she begins to remedy through a growing romantic entanglement with a local lifeguard, Isla. The tangible immaturity of both AJ and Isla (Ella-Rae Smith) means that the path to harmony is fraught with misreadings, misunderstandings, and an air of jealousy, adding an emotional edge to this otherwise sweet drama.
AJ is an intriguing character for her absolute refusal to conform, and the sanctimonious disgust she has for anything she deems to be too normal or conventional; her family represents all she is trying to break and grow out of. At the same time, the family clearly means well, they have just followed a more domestic path than AJ hopes for. This is especially true of her traditionally feminine, glamorous, and heavily pregnant older sister. In particular, AJ’s mum Tina is a contradictory and chaotic force in her life. Actress Jo Hartley, who some will recognise as the mum from This is England, perfectly captures the blend of maternal care and hard-done-by irritation present in Tina. Through staggered reveals, the source of the underlying tension within AJ is shown to be multi-faceted: it is not just the stark differences in her family’s outlook but AJ’s burgeoning sexual identity and the fallout from her mum’s divorce. Viewing this from AJ’s perspective, the characters around her seem to conspire to irritate her, making her chance encounter with the angelic local resident Isla to seem all the more dreamlike and exhilarating.
Isla is also intriguing in her status as a desirable woman, yet Ella-Rae Smith portrays Isla convincingly with pain behind her eyes and second-guessing behind her smile. Her sexuality and the motivations for her desire to be with AJ, but also with others, is clouded behind an unstated shyness that can only come from youth and inexperience. Though more confident and social than AJ, Isla is also looking for something greater than her surroundings: her job and social life are comfortable and fun but ultimately somewhat empty. The gravitational pull of Isla to AJ is discovered to be reciprocal, both viewing each other as endearing in their differences, with the quirks of their personalities contrasting blissfully to the perceived monotony of their everyday lives. Is it summer love, or maybe more?
Sweetheart as a narrative is all heart and soul, so it makes perfect sense that it featured as part of BFI Flare’s Hearts section this year. Director Marley Morrison’s success lies in striking the balance between showcasing the inevitable banality of family holidays and the magic of unexpected romance. The film has some beautiful shots: characters contemplating life on the windy stoney shores of Devon, or making bad decisions in the neon glow of the communal laundrette. The fashion of modern Britain, in all its naffness and glory, is represented in a cast of characters, especially amongst the younger crowd; AJ’s bucket hat is a great example of British counterculture chic. This commentary on style is even taken to hilarious extremes when the holiday park has a 1980s-themed night for all to revel in camp delights, a throwback event which is a staple of crap club nights across the UK.
The 1980s dance night is actually a pivotal scene for AJ’s development towards a truce within the family unit. Not only does AJ begin to have some sympathy and understanding of both her sister’s and mum’s outlook, but they all confront the elephant in the room which is only hinted at before: Tina’s divorce. It is heartbreaking to learn that Tina only arranged this holiday to create a sense of normalcy after a messy and emotionally unresolved separation with her husband and the children’s father. Mirroring what the family used to do as a happier unit, it is clear that Tina has been looking backwards to a more simple and uncomplicated time of family bonding. It is also apparent that Tina is seeking to regain the confidence to be desired as a woman again, taking it upon herself to cautiously test her level of attraction at the dance. It is with fitting gentleness that Morrison reveals AJ is not the only character who needs to find themselves during this trip.
The acting and setting in Sweetheart is wholly appropriate for showing a quintessentially British family holiday and the tensions lurking under family relationships. AJ is confrontational against the tradition of ‘playing nice’ but also learns, as teenagers eventually do, that transgression for the sake of it is not constructive. We need to forge our own identity but not at the expense of cutting all the ties around us. The nuance of living with people who raised you, but who you’ve grown apart from, is tackled in an accessible and gracious way by Morrison, further exploring how to come to terms with one’s own intimate desires and lust for a more exciting life.
