So rare have film performances transcended cultural discourse than Andrea Riseborough’s recent Oscar-nominated work in To Leslie (2022). The film had its world debut at SXSW, and even before her nomination, it was clear Riseborough’s performance was a high mark for the character actress. She was able to tackle a complex, difficult character for an audience to spend time with and watch their fallacies take them down the typical rabbit hole narrative of drug addiction and redemption. The 2023 Oscar nominations yielded one the most surprising nominations in history: Andrea Riseborough was nominated for Best Actress after a last-minute super-campaign took social media by a storm of prominent actors singing their praises for Riseborough’s work, hosting screenings the week in which Oscar voting happened, and even name-dropping her in a televised acceptance speech.

Before January 24, most people didn’t know To Leslie existed. Now, there’s such bewilderment as to how an independent film from a small distributor that roughly grossed $27,000 in its limited theatrical window managed to get enough eyeballs of Oscar voters to be nominated for what was an intense Best Actress race. After watching the film (admittedly, after the social media blitz campaign), it’s very apparent why Riseborough was nominated—she’s simply phenomenal in the film. This is the type of role I can imagine actors love to tackle, as it has a lot of trademarks that lend themselves to awards attention, such as playing a flawed, almost unlikeable character, physical ticks and mannerisms, loud histrionics, and a redemptive ark. No doubt, a lot will be written about what this nomination signifies or represents, yet, Riseborough’s performance shouldn’t be dismissed. It’s a remarkable performance that shouldn’t be solely defined by this series of events; the performance (and the film overall) existed before the nomination and will continue to exist after the Oscars are over, and hopefully, we can see more exciting projects befitting Riseborough’s talents be born from this recognition.

Luck seems to strike people when they least expect it, and in terms of winning a major lottery, most can only dream of being in the position to be gifted with such a prize. Riseborough’s Leslie Rowlands finds herself in the beginning as a lucky winner of a $190,000 local lottery in West Texas. The film opens with grainy news footage of her win as she hoots and hollers in front of a bar, proudly holding her oversized check. She credits her son for the win, as his birthday was the winning number, and everyone around her seems happy. Leslie seems she’s on the road to success, so much so that she offers a round of drinks for everyone present. It’s a big way for Michael Morris (making his feature debut) to open with a wild and exaggerated Riseborough having the vivacious personality that would allow any bar to have Leslie as a regular.

Cut to 6 years later where we see a more alcoholic, worn-out Leslie living in between hotels and on the streets, as she has squandered her money on drugs and poor decisions that have left her alone and destitute. After failing miserably to reconnect with her son, a now older James (Owen Tague), and potentially running the last type of human relationship, she finds herself aimless and wondering, bouncing from spot to spot, crashing at various locations. She soon ends up in the company of Sweeney (Marc Maron) and Royal (Andre Royo), two owners of a rundown motel on the outskirts of town, and Sweeney finds himself magnetically drawn to Leslie and offers her a room to stay in and $7.50 an hour to clean motel rooms. Is it a sign of sparks flying between two adults who have their fair share of ups and downs, or is Morris portraying Leslie at a point where no one who knows her cares, and anyone who meets her will likely lash out? Why not accept self-defeat accept support from a stranger who has no idea of the baggage Leslie carries? Even after watching it, there’s no clear-cut way to answer it.

Morris keeps his film centered on this prickly relationship, whereas Sweeney and Leslie are combative personalities attempting to meet in the middle. Morris and the script written by Ryan Binaco allow these two great actors ample opportunity to clash with each other followed by quiet sweet scenes that properly display two people who have made poor decisions in their past. So both know there’s no moral high ground to stand on. Still, while Sweeney has enough pride and self-respect, this is Leslie’s transitionary period of realizing no choice she’s made has resulted in anything positive. This isn’t a redemption tale of recognizing why one’s addictions are bad—Leslie is very aware of her choices, but does she care about herself enough to not continue? Is there some form of love she has for herself, her son, and her overall being that is it worth turning the luck around? The film mostly consists of that: some days are lucky and Leslie experiences a type of clarity she hasn’t felt while Sweeney feels connected to a soul he’d originally written off as disposable that now feels like family. But Leslie’s past will always be remembered in her surroundings, the people in her life who met her bitter and destructive side, and her lifetime achievement of winning the lottery will always be omnipresent even if she’s the only one in the room.

Riseborough is exceptional. As trite as it sounds, she disappears into the role of Leslie, as she has this strung-out, wide-eyed but volatile look on her in every scene. She is always on alert, and Riseborough’s acting ticks don’t feel contrived for narrative effect; Leslie is never comfortable in one place. The shouting, the yelling, the nervous twitches, and the deteriorated makeup shows how much vibrancy and life has been wrung from this woman, none of it feels like Riseborough is purposefully doing it. She displays a naturalism that I think bigger-named actors would have more difficulty portraying. And her performance is only effective because of how mild-mannered and sweet Maron comes across. His Sweeney is good-natured and well-intentioned but has enough love for himself that there are times he has to take a personal stance and not be manipulated by Leslie. They’re fantastic scene partners and the loving curiosity both display is so affecting that there’s a small part of us wanting these two to remain close by the end.

There is a small, almost inconsequential scene between Leslie and Sweeney, as she’s settled in midway into the film, and decides internally she has to quit drinking. This is the last chance any person of any lifetime can ever get. Sweeney is almost too uncertain as to how to go about this situation—he likes Leslie but is wise enough to not delve too deep until she helps herself. But he will support her in the capacity he can: within the confines of this run-down motel. After some moments of awkward silence, Sweeney decides to play his friend’s music player, unaware of what music is inside. Soon both Sweeney and Leslie are hearing Hare Krishna, and find themselves laughing at the randomness of the music. But they let it play. Almost like how they’ve found each other, they welcome the randomness the universe is offering. In Sanskrit, Hare Krishna is a sacred mantra, which in essence, means humans are spiritually driven and live by the rules of their karma that determine their reincarnation in the future. But humans can break their karma by giving themselves to a higher power.

Leslie existed before she won money. Her life may not have been beautiful or worth remembering to any stranger like Sweeney. Winning the lottery did not fix Leslie, it only enhanced her actions & impulses; the money was doomed the moment Leslie won it, and it’s no surprise that Morris was less interested in what Leslie would do with the money, and more, in how she goes on living after destroying the one potential good form of karma anyone would love to have? Sadly, no one knows, not even Leslie. All she can do is to live each day better, hopefully drug-free, than the one before and hold herself to the standard she wants if she hopes to have the kind of love and peace of mind many would try to attain with a lottery-winning ticket. For Leslie to give over to a higher means to love and believe in herself when she has every reason not to, and every day is a battle, maybe Leslie has found enough self-love and hope to not give in to her impulses.

Review Courtesy of Amritpal Rai