Sean Price Williams’ feature debut contains great moments, but largely consists of confused ideas and seemingly random visual flair.
★★✰✰✰
Anticipation has been building around The Sweet East for some time. Being the debut feature film from famed cinematographer Sean Price Williams, who has previously been responsible for the stylish cinematography of films including Good Time, Heaven Knows What and Her Smell, there was bound to be plenty of interest shown in the project. When you attach to that anticipation a cast including Red Rocket’s Simon Rex, Talia Ryder, Jacob Elordi and Ayo Edebiri, it isn’t hard to understand why The Sweet East is the latest hyped-up independent film.
In some ways, the film lives up to the level of interest surrounding it. The performances from the aforementioned stars are all very strong—especially from Rex, who steals the show but is, unfortunately, only in a fraction of the film. Price Williams, unsurprisingly, attaches plenty of visual flair and strange, playful tonal work. His eye for interesting visuals remains, carried over from his other work, and serves as much of the driving force behind the film alongside the characters. The film never slows down, always ready to assault the viewer with bold, grainy visuals full of distinctive character.
The film deserves plenty of credit for its ambition, but its major problem, a complete lack of balance, quickly becomes apparent. There are effective moments and solid prolonged segments, but the overall effect is so all-over-the-place that it can be frustrating to try to keep up with and, sometimes, is viciously off-putting.
A constantly shifting tone also leads to inconsistencies and hypocrisy, seeing the film quickly flip between a sobering reflection of misogyny in contemporary America (in this case, portraying how Ryder’s Lillian is treated by a number of different men, each one representative of a certain clique), and an edge-lord ridiculousness which frequently engages in a brand of voyeurism of its own.
Ryder, thankfully, is great as Lillian, who is intentionally introduced as a blank slate who slowly ‘learns’ how to act in accordance with the male expectations surrounding her. The plot sees her repeatedly meet a man, become disturbed by his advances and attempts to manipulate her, and then engage in a power struggle with them, manipulating the men in return by tricking them, embarrassing them or robbing them. She gains agency but is forced to engage in voyeurism directly, using her beauty and sexualising herself to get what she wants from the male-dominated spaces she finds herself consistently trapped in. The film acknowledges that Lillian is stuck in this way, but it also frames her as a sexual object throughout, too, and therefore fails to convincingly make a striking point about the treatment of women. One can see what the film is going for, but it doesn’t ever click. Its ideas aren’t potent enough, diluted by confusing asides and moments of silliness.
It is with Nick Pinkerton’s woefully inconsistent and confused script that the film really struggles. Its good performances help to ground it, but it is a film constantly at odds with itself. The first fifteen minutes in particular feel almost like a kind of endurance test—a way to see if the audience will be willing to play along with The Sweet East’s various formal and narrative antics. The editing is choppy and overwhelming, channeling the style of Alex Ross Perry (who produced the film) and the mumblecore movement more widely with its use of 16mm film, focus on character over narrative and generally disorienting style.
When the film does focus on specific characters or situations rather than flitting between them, it improves vastly. The segment with Simon Rex, portraying a sleazy ‘nice guy’ professor, is not only very funny but also quietly depressing and by far the best part of the film. Ayo Edebiri as a pretentious film director and Jacob Elordi as a British superstar actor makes for a similarly amusing passage, even if sometimes frustrating due to its overlong gags that don’t stick well. Much of the film struggles with this balancing act, unsure about when to be serious or funny, thus struggling to be either one effectively. The chaotic storytelling is more often overly aggressive and unappealing than it is engaging. The argument could be made that the film is more interested in character than narrative; however this argument is less effective given that many of its characters lack definition too.
Overall, The Sweet East struggles to live up to its hype due to its inconsistent script and consistent edginess. This is a film that appears to want to be shocking and offensive, but it never is. It’s too tame to be unruly, and trips over its more extreme gags by trying, simultaneously, to be serious. The film is, unfortunately, a mess. But it is made tolerable by a plethora of quality performances and moments of effective humour or poignancy.
The Verdict
Sean Price Williams and screenwriter Nick Pinkerton struggle to hold The Sweet East together. Though the film has some strong moments, it is fatally inconsistent. It is a film trying to do too much at once, to the point that it ends up doing little. Its fairytale elements simply cannot balance with its attempts at horror, its humour isn’t compatible with its attempted social commentary. It is, at least, a film ripe to become a cult classic given some time. There is certainly an audience for The Sweet East… somewhere.
Words by Reece Beckett
The Sweet East is in UK cinemas now.
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.