Review: All My Puny Sorrows

Summary

This adaptation of an award-winning Canadian novel brings with it much of the source material’s language as well as its unique mix of sorrow and humour.

Trigger warning: this post discusses self-harm and suicidal feelings.

As the winner of multiple literary prizes, the sixth novel from Canadian writer Miriam Toews has a huge reputation. Drawing heavily from the events that led up to the suicide of her own sister, bringing it to the screen must be something of a bittersweet experience for the writer. Michael McGowan’s film, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival this year, attempts to convey some of the nuance on screen.

Sisters Yoli Von Riesen (Alison Pill) and Elf Von Riesen (Sarah Gaddon) have long since left behind their strict Mennonite upbringing following the suicide death of their father (Donal Logue). Elf has become a successful concert pianist with a family, while Yoli struggles as a writer and lives with her teenage daughter (Amybeth McNulty) and remains in an unsatisfying relationship.

Yet Elf has lived with the same chronic depression that plagued her father. Following a second attempt at ending her own life, Yoli makes it her mission to save her sister, even as Elf begs her to be taken to a Swiss assisted suicide clinic. How Yoli and her pragmatic mother Lottie (Mare Winningham) deal with the situation is the primary focus of the narrative, and often difficult and occasionally confronting examination of coping with death.

“When I wake up in the morning, I have moments of excruciating hope.”

Even without knowing the source material, you may be surprised to find that a film about suicide had so many disarmingly funny moments in between the malaise. Even as Elf lays in a hospital bed, every member of the family has a dry and inky black sense of humour about the situation. “Your mother and I buried 14 brothers and sisters,” says their aunt Tina (Mimi Kuzyk), as if by explanation. If death is a way of life, then there is inevitable comedy in there too.

However, even without knowing the source material one can see that the film is indebted to it, recreating its literary references awkwardly in the language of film. In between Yoli’s lengthy monologues there are a stack of textual allusions that sit awkwardly on the tongue. The film format feels far too contained for the weight of what these people are going through, offering only a slideshow of moments.

The performances are excellent though. In the face of Gaddon’s unnerving grace in the contemplation of taking her own is complemented by Pill’s raw turn as Yoli. There is one scene in particular, a moment of losing her temper at a guy in a parking lot, that feels nothing short of an authentic emotional outpouring. Winningham is the true scene-stealer here, from her non-nonsense quips to her understated grief lurking inches from the surface.

So, while some viewers may struggle with the arm’s length approach McGowan takes with the material, ALL MY PUNY SORROWS will no doubt resonate with many a viewer (and reader), and if it speaks to your truth then this is unquestionably a good thing.

ALL MY PUNY SORROWS is reviewed as part of our coverage of the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) 2021.