For the Love of God, Give This Woman an Oscar Nomination
In a captivating manner, Pansy’s spontaneous complaints reveal a rhythm akin to poetry, swiftly transitioning from worries about racial profiling by law enforcement to contemplations on the ethics of pet apparel: “Why’s that dog wearing a coat? It’s got fur, isn’t it?” Her knack for delivering stinging remarks is evident when she casually criticizes a woman at the grocery store as standing like an ostrich, subtly hinting at the elongated neck of the actor portraying her character. However, the phrase that lingers in my thoughts isn’t directed at anyone specific. During a visit to her late mother Pearl’s grave, Pansy confides in her more optimistic sister Chantelle (Michele Austin) that she feels “tormented… tormented.” The source of her torment remains ambiguous and insignificant by this point – it is the profound impact of life’s pleasures being overshadowed by her current state that resonates with Pansy. Jean-Baptiste delivers this line with the emptiness of a returning soldier, rather than a housewife and mother who quarrels with store employees. Despite Pansy’s inability to articulate the existential danger she feels she’s enduring, Jean-Baptiste convinces us of the depths of her despair.