Woeful winnings on the lottery lead to disastrous consequences in To Leslie. It is not so far from the truth rooted in the dangers of money and the influx that comes from a seemingly lucky break. Dolly Parton’s country charms run through the immediate contrast found in the opening of this Michael Morris-directed piece. Andrea Riseborough’s lottery-winning role as the eponymous Leslie proves the immediacy of addiction and the surge of troubles that come from it. She reaches out with her $190,000 winnings and as quick as a flash they are gone. Within four minutes, that money is won and gone. Everyone can associate the exhilaration of a win, the rush of adrenalin and the surge that comes with delight, but experiencing the fall and the troubles are what American movies are focusing on more and more. Trees Lounge and Barfly did much the same.
Bleary eyes, shot vessels and a red nose notifies the viewer of the state Leslie finds herself in. To Leslie hopes the actions and activities on-screen can make up for the rough writing and lack of perspective. Downfall after downfall hits Leslie and the only convincing part of it is the inevitable strikethrough of hoping to make a difference. It is soppy and shot in that intimate, grim style that gives discomfort and embarrassment a front-row seat. Riseborough may be a force of quality for To Leslie but her west Texan twang is difficult to swallow and the interactions with her son James (Owen Teague) are just a smokescreen for the destitute sham on display.
Littering in the likes of Marc Maron and Stephen Root gives star power to the supporting cast but their inclusion gives little impact. Allison Janney features too, a collection of heavy hitters in a drama that has been overexposed to glory because the Academy found themselves short of contenders this year. To Leslie is the usual bait and switch that comes from this genre but it feels close to something that could be genuine if it were not so stilted and obvious in its intention. Happy endings are always on the cards for a character that shows no expectation of recovery. To Leslie is a stilted and confused progression of alcoholism and woe. Determination is one thing, but the loose ends and sloppy relationships that come through Leslie are an inevitability, rather than a moving experience.
Morris finds himself in an interesting position here. Previous works from him in the directing chair were television series, meaning his structure and run-through of key plot developments are slashed and stuffed into two hours. His pace flows well it is just a shame his characters and message are bunged up with the usual woes and throes of the alcoholic whose brief glimmer of hope was lost years ago. That desire is present, as it is and always is during the conventional turns alcoholism gives the big screen. Flight and The Lost Weekend all showed the highs and lows of that situation, all To Leslie can do is echo the same experiences with camerawork and directing intent that hopes the scum and dreck of the past experiences, the guilt and hope of a new beginning, rises to the surface. It does, and it provides nothing of genuine, heartfelt experience here.
