An underrated film to have come out of the 35th Annual Philadelphia Film Festival lineup is a film loud with anguish and paired with uncertainty, which is Mouse, co-directed by Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson. 

Opening up the film with two high school-aged best friends, Minnie (Katherine Mallen Kupferer) and Callie (Chloe Coleman), screaming the lyrics, singing along with Michelle Branch to her 2002 hit single “All You Wanted,” builds the audience up to believe the unbridled joy being seen has the wrong plotline. The co-directors execute this tactic with near perfection. 

O’Sullivan and Thompson continue their streak of creating a film centered on grief-stricken families and communities, coming off the heels of their 2024 directorial feature debut Ghostlight. The approach being taken in this film is one that is challenging to grapple with: How do you come of age when your platonic soulmate, one you would take on all of life’s obstacles with, can no longer do the same?

Mouse. The title plays on the interpretations of that word in this film, whether that be through ‘Minnie Mouse’ as an unearned nickname for our lead Minnie Dunn, or her personhood being mousy, a wallflower. In Little Rock, Arkansas, in the year 2002, we walk alongside Minnie and Helen Bell (Sophie Okonedo), Callie’s mother, as they both try to find their pathway forward without their North Star, Callie. Both grieving processes are essential to understanding community grief, as they both serve as the “Reminder.” 

For their small, tight-knit community, seeing Callie and Helen is a constant reminder of the pain everyone has endured and the loss of a future Broadway star, and it starts to become suffocating. The film expertly captures the tides of grief, particularly when milestone moments arrive, such as the school dance or back-to-school shopping, and how it brings on a tidal wave of complex feelings. Even in passing, their person is still a present identity in their lives.

Because we are understanding loss at two different points in life, this film is unironically a fantastic selection to watch as a family. Minnie’s story in particular is one that is dealing with coming-of-age in high school, embarking on her senior year, figuring out romance, fighting with her mom – all of the things an average teenager goes through but without their partner-in-crime. 

Helen’s story navigates only child loss, remembering who she is outside of a parent, and the revolutionary act of continuing despite it all. Both storylines flirt with, and eventually embrace, the concept of setting boundaries within grief and comfort to clarify moral and ethical acts during a sensitive period.

Paired with O’Sullivan’s tremendous writing is the support of the time period costuming and needle drops that are sure to bring you back to a specific memory in your life. There is an appreciation for the approach to costuming done by Meg Grace, as it was not a dramatized dream of what 2002 might have been like, but rather what it was like, particularly between different socioeconomic classes, which is a boiling-point subplot within the film that I have a great admiration for. The film feels like it is plucked right out of 2002, without any subtext to being a post-9/11 world.

A smart piece of dialogue I took from the film that has stuck with me about the grieving process is “Wherever you are in your grief, that’s exactly where you need to be.” No journey is the same, as it is a funhouse of mirrors reflecting your tears back to you, and just when you think you’ve found the exit, you’ve just gotten a bruise on your forehead from running into a mirror.

While the film is emotionally heavy, you may or may not have tears, but what I can promise is that it is cathartic in some capacity. 

This film is set to have its United States theatrical release on November 6 (limited) and November 13 (wide) and is distributed by Independent Film Company.

Review Courtesy of Des Mack

Feature Image Courtesy of IFC