Scrap

Vivian Kerr's painful, joyous drama about a headstrong woman's descent into homelessness and delusion is an authentic portrait of a sibling relationship that is loving but dysfunctional.

Nowadays the biggest recurring decision a movie critic has to make is what to review. The studios generally aren’t screening the major theatrical releases for us anymore outside of the largest media markets, but there’s plenty of coverage opportunities to choose among indies, streaming platforms, physical media and straight to video fare.

Here at the Yap, we try to present a mix of all of these, because we think our audience has nuanced, multilayered tastes.

Another question is when to review. Some writers place great emphasis on being among the first to review a film — even if the people they’re writing for won’t have an opportunity to watch it for weeks or even months. For me, that’s like a waiter hurrying out the entrees while the patrons are still walking in the door. I usually wait until no more than a couple of days before a film’s release to publish.

But many smaller movies fall into the gray zone of playing on the festival circuit while searching for a distributor. We review plenty of those when they appear at Indy Film Fest or Heartland Film Festival, the two biggest such events in Indiana.

“Scrap” didn’t play at either of these, but is distinct enough to merit a look. An authentic portrait of a sibling relationship that is loving but dysfunctional, it’s been notching festival awards and favorable reviews all over the country. Perhaps one more will contribute to it getting enough notice for a distribution deal, and you can see it for yourself.

It’s a painful but also joyous drama starring Vivian Kerr, who wrote and directed, as Beth Anderson, a headstrong woman spiraling down financially and emotionally in Los Angeles. She lost her job in public relations and her apartment, and is now living out of her car while trying to find a new gig. Her 5-year-old daughter, Birdy, stays with her brother and his wife. She has told no one about her situation.

Beth is smart and capable, but also riddled with self-doubt and destructive tendencies. Despite her economic crisis, she obsessively orders junk off of Amazon and has it delivered to her brother’s house. He’s annoyed, but occupied with his own issues.

Ben (Anthony Rapp) is a successful writer of a sword-and-sorcery novel series called “Oracle.” The second book has just come out, the publisher is offering a fat contract for three more and movie rights are being dangled. He has a million social media followers and gushing fans at book signings. But his heart isn’t in it; he’d rather get his nonfiction book about Billie Holiday onto shelves, but nobody wants to publish it.

Additionally, he and his wife, Stacy (Lana Parrilla), a Type A personality lawyer, have been trying to get pregnant for years without success. There’s ongoing tension between Stacy and Beth that includes basic in-law stuff, but also resentment about Beth continually treating Birdy like luggage to be dropped off, and occasionally staying for extended visits herself when sleeping in her car gets to be too much.

Kerr previously made a short film version of “Scrap” a few years ago with largely the same cast. The primary dynamic is between Beth and Ben, and Kerr and Rapp give beautiful, layered performances as two people inextricably bound together, but very different and often at odds.

Their parents died when they were young, and Ben essentially raised Beth himself. She still sees herself as the bratty screw-up, and tends to lean into that behavior when her challenges pile up. Ben takes on the role of the sighing, superior adult in the room, treating her like a child and unconsciously encouraging her to act like one.

There’s some romantic stuff going on in the background, including Beth’s old boyfriend (and Birdy’s dad) coming back into the picture, and Marcus (Khleo Thomas), a tender-hearted fellow who works at the local skating rink taking an interest. You can see in Beth’s expression that she instinctively views Marcus as beneath her — a white-collar professional, even if a currently unemployed and unhoused one — but also a glimmer of interest.

What makes Kerr’s performance so empathetic is the mix of pride, shame and delusion in Beth’s persona. She’s become an accomplished liar, to the extent she can even convince herself things aren’t so bad, but deep down she knows a reckoning is coming. The audience might feel tempted to treat such a character with disdain, but Kerr gives Beth a relatable heft that’s impossible to dismiss.

There are wonderful little observational moments spread throughout the movie. Early on the focus is on Beth’s existentialist challenges of just finding a place to park and sleep, get food, bathe, interview for jobs with the one good outfit she has, etc. There’s a pair of short vignettes, an encounter with the same person in two different circumstances, that explores how people treat each other differently given the context of their meeting.

“Scrap” is about a woman who finds herself suddenly thrown onto the trash heap of society, and part of her feels like she belongs there. Having a brother you can lean on — and the two of them learning the support is strongest when shared both ways — makes all the difference in the world.