Sundance 2021: Superior

An extended reprise of her 2015 short by the same name, Erin Vassilopoulos' Superior is a simultaneously sweet and nightmarish vision of suburban sisterly reconnection. After over a half-decade of estrangement, Vivian's (Ani Mesa) twin sister, Marian (Alessandra Mesa), shows up, troubled, weary, and under mysterious circumstances. As the film starts, we see Marian escape and run over her abusive ex, Robert (Pico Alexander), with a car, casting a shadow of paranoia and anxiety over her surprise arrival. As the film progresses, the two reconnect, shoving a wedge between Vivian and her husband, Michael (Jake Hoffman), whose relationship is strained as they struggle to conceive. After a particularly rough shift, Marian pleads Vivian to swap with her, just temporarily, at her job tending to customers at a local ice cream parlor. The role-swap, however, creates not only awkward conversations between daily acquaintances (not to mention spouses), but also spells danger when Marian's past threatens to catch up with her. 

There are certainly shades of David Lynch here. Not in a straight, surrealist sense, but, rather in the soft, vaseline-smeared imagery and pastel set design. It is more Lost Highway than Mulholland Drive, despite the premise's glancing similarities to that nightmarish classic. But, this is also an altogether warmer picture than the Lynch greats it grazes against. And, this is as much a tale of sisterly love as it is a story of haunted pasts exacting shadowy vengeance. Vivian and Marian share ice-cream outings and flip through photo albums; they help each other apply makeup and swap chores to lighten the load. That the two actresses are real life twin sisters has a large part to do with why it struck me as such a convincingly loving relationship. There is an immediate and tangible familiarity, not just in the cadence of their conversations, but in their posture around one another, in how they squabble over abrasive habits, and in how they care for and worry about one another. And the dialogue, written by both Vassilopoulos and Alessandra Mesa, is sharp, entirely charismatic, and consistently naturalistic. This relationship between the two sisters, more than anything, is what makes Superior work as well as it does. 

Stylistically, the 1980s aesthetic flourishes mark the film as a convincing, but never overly loud period piece. It also helps create tension when cellphones can't be used as a lifeline when danger creeps in from the sides of the frame. The set design is sparse, but effective. The choice to give the film a soft, glowing, smeary look, however, feels a bit imprecise. In Lynch's work, it gives his films a dream-like quality. Here, though, the story is played straight, with no surrealism, only brief dream sequences and flashbacks. It left me wondering why Vassilopoulos chose to treat the images this way beyond simple evocation of Lynch. Sonically, though the film has a synthy ambient, atmospheric piece that fades in and out at intervals, it hardly feels a slavish cliche to the setting. The score carves out a wonderfully complementary identity that suits the film's tone and rhythm—a slow build of dread after a calm and sweet interlude of filial bliss. 

Vassilopoulos' work, here, is largely excellent and I look forward to seeing what kinds of stories she will tell in the future. She has a strong and clear voice, even as her influences shine through. I hope she continues to write compelling and relatable characters while allowing herself the room to get weirder with her stories. There are elements here that work so well to create an air of unease—a shadowy pursuer's trio of snow-white dogs, a vaguely off Americana, a falsified memory—but they only ever remain beneath the surface. The elements work well as they are, but the deliberate choice to focus mainly on the sisterly bonding, makes them feel ancillary and somewhat unnecessary. Nevertheless, this is well worth a watch. The performances are compelling, the tone is unsettling, and the dialogue is beautifully naturalistic. Give this film a shot.