The faith-based film industry has made major strides over the last decade. What once were teeny-tiny budget flicks only shown to church groups have gone mainstream. Some of them have gotten so big you can barely even detect the church-y parts compared to other movies.
But the downside of that is that there is a tendency to fall into a rut of familiar stories and characters, not unlike romantic comedies. Case in point: "Tulsa," a warmhearted and likeable film that, at two hours running time, tends to meander and become stuck in familiar eddies.
Director/star-writer Scott Pryor plays Tommy, a former Marine who runs a barely functioning garage for hot rods and motorcycles. He's strung out on booze, pills and PTSD. As the story opens he's getting ready to eat his pistol when he gets a surprise phone call: he has a daughter he never knew about it.
Livi Birch plays Tulsa, a precocious 9-year-old who has been living in the foster system since her mom died in a motorcycle accident two years ago. She and her younger foster brother were recently taken into custody after a string of abuse, and the reluctant case worker assigned to the case, Jaylene (Nicole Marie Johnson), stumbles across the only photo she has of her biological father, who happens to be Tommy, an old flame.
In quick order Tulsa is placed into Tommy's temporary custody until they can find another place for her to live and get a DNA test to sort out the truth of her parentage.
Tommy's in a really rough place, a barely functional addict who's three months behind in rent for his garage, where he also lives in the shabby upstairs apartment. Morose and surly, he wants nothing to do with the sunshine-and-rose-petals Tulsa, who is a font of optimism and good cheer. She soon starts fixing up his apartment and his life.
Tulsa is also a devout Christian, reading from her Bible daily and urging Tommy to see the error of his ways. She starts attending a local Black church, where the bishop, Frank Owens (Cameron Arnett), takes a shine to Tulsa and starts to drop by the shop with advice and a spare good book.
I liked all these story pieces, though Pryor isn't always adept at fitting them together. There are stretches about Tulsa assimilating at school with the challenge of some mean girls, preparing for the daddy/daughter dance, and other familiar stuff. Meanwhile, Tommy has to get right with his past, his substance abuse and his wandering away from his long-dormant faith.
Things wind up in the story right where I expected: with a major health challenge to one of the characters. John Schneider plays the doctor on the case who lends an expert hand and a kindly eye. But you can probably see where the movie is heading a long ways off.
I enjoyed hanging out with these characters, and the little bits of unexpected sly humor that creep in here and there. For instance, when Tulsa is quizzing Tommy upon their first meeting and asks him what his favorite movie is, he responds "Blackbear" -- not the new film starring Aubrey Plaza, but Pryor's own previous film.
Birch is a real winning presence. It's not easy for a child actor to carry a movie the way she does, playing a headstrong kid whose faith helps shield her form a lot of the hurt and growing pains she's experienced.
I expect to see more from her, and not just in faith-based films.