Well-acted and confidently crafted, the indie thriller “Scrap” explores messy family dynamics with low-key but taut intensity, eschewing the usual pillars of dysfunctional clan comedy or high drama driven by screaming matches and shocking revelations. Since its debut at the 2022 Deauville Film Festival, American writer-director Vivian Kerr’s debut feature has been circling the festival circuit for over two years, during which time she completed her sophomore effort (the thriller “Seance”). Although she plays the lead role in both, this is no vanity project, as her character is perhaps the least sympathetic of several strangely intertwined people in Los Angeles. Kerr distributes this authoritative depiction of “hidden” homelessness and the problematic dependencies of sisterhood, which hits on-demand platforms on December 13.
Beth (Kerr) is introduced waking up in what turns out to be her SUV, parked on a residential street in a middle-to-upper-class neighborhood where she no doubt believes she belongs — or did, until she was recently downsized to a corporate job. She is now busy maintaining the facade of stability, even though she has since lost her home and is being pursued by collection agencies. All these things were kept secret from big brother Ben (Anthony Rapp). However, he begins to suspect something is wrong, especially since Beth has deposited her 5-year-old daughter Birdie (Julianna Lynn) with him for an unreasonably long period of time while she is supposedly out of town on business.
Despite living in contrastingly comfortable circumstances, Ben has his own problems. As an author, he is under pressure to put aside the work he cares about to focus on a commercially successful sword-and-sorcery fantasy series, but he finds it trivial. Meanwhile, he and his wife, attorney Stacy (Lana Parrilla), are trying to have their first child via in vitro fertilization, and the stress of not working out is wearing them down. It’s not a good moment for the always needy but acerbic and defensive Beth to show up on her doorstep, demanding more of them as usual. After her car is broken into and her potential job falls through, she makes up more lies to explain why she must now join Birdie under their roof.
It takes a full hour before the truth comes out, when Ben accidentally discovers that his sister’s actual employment status is “former.” But Kerr’s screenplay fills that time with interesting personal details that highlight the brothers’ prickly relationship without spelling things out too frankly. Having lost his parents in unexplained circumstances long ago, Ben is stuck early on raising his “little sister,” a supportive role that she exploits and hates.
This clearly isn’t the first time she’s taxed his near-endless patience, and some of her decision-making is still pretty poor, justifying her fear of being seen as “tacky,” not to mention Stacy’s respect for her. As a “vampire”. Brief, silent childhood memories suggest a shared burden of great loss that may remain too painful to discuss.
There’s no melodramatic exaggeration about the rocky road we travel here, which ultimately ends on an optimistic note that doesn’t rely on any magic fixes, just realistically adjusted expectations. Ben and Stacey have to rethink the terms of the married life they expected. Beth has to stop lying to everyone, especially herself; Her path forward may require a shift toward a lower level of career and economic advancement. Part of that abandonment involves an ill-fated reunion with a now repentant ex (Brad Schmidt) who ran away as soon as he discovered she was pregnant. There’s also the possibility of a new working-class suitor (Khleo Thomas) that she wouldn’t have thought of before.
All of these characters are well drawn by the performers and writing, whose struggles are often felt rather than expressed – all three main characters are the types who need to appear to be in control, no matter how damaging that deception might be. “Scrap” has few stylistic flourishes, aside from a soundwave of Tin Pan Alley songs from the 78-rpm era (apparently a favorite of dead parents), and it tones down the kind of big, confrontational scenes that such narratives usually drive . It is not oval or impressionistic. The level of outward emotional expression here is simply maintained at a level consistent with characters who may internally reach a boiling point, but are still held back by self-esteem and polite manners.
This clever film allows them to solve the problem without a lot of explosive venting. This kind of release may be good for them, but it’s not who they are, and “Scrap” provides enough understanding for audiences to be satisfied with the siblings eventually getting where they’re going without him.