Director: Lance Hammer
Screenplay: Lance Hammer
Producer: Lance Hammer, Nina Parikh
Starring: Micheal J. Smith Sr., JimMyron Ross, Tarra Riggs
MPAA Rating: NR
Running time: 96 min.

Over the last few years, American independent filmmaking seems to have gone through a change. I’m not talking about the wanna-be indies like Juno and Little Miss Sunshine which are clearly lower budget but far from truly independent. The stories being told have changed and the quirky characters in unrealistic situations appear to slowly be morphing into real individuals in real situations; what film historians may refer to as neorealism. Films like Chop Shop, Wendy and Lucy, Frozen River and even, if to a lesser extent, Baghead are all clear examples of the shift of focus to the realism of life, usually quiet and largely uneventful, but no other film I’ve seen is as eloquent and beautiful as Lance Hammer’s Ballast.

An idea that began as a filmmaker trying to capture the mood of a place turned into a film about a place and the people that inhabit it. It’s the story of small town life in the Mississippi Delta; of the hardships and small joys that fill the day to day and the tragedies that shape the people. It’s the story of Lawrence, Marlee and James, three individuals whose lives are forever changed and linked by a death; for Lawrence it’s the loss of his twin brother and the hole that is left in his life now that he is gone. For Marlee and James it’s the physical death of a long estranged lover and father and the beginning of a new, better life; a curse for one, a rebirth for someone else – funny how life works that way.

Upon first viewing, what struck me about the film was the beautiful melancholy of the location. Hammer captures the Delta as a barren yet beautiful place that is both full of life and death. Birds, deer, people all living together in a place surrounded by burnt, barren and flooded landscapes. The sunrises and sunsets mark the cycles of days that would otherwise blend into each other; today the same as yesterday, the same as tomorrow. There’s a gratifying peace in that knowledge and familiarity of the day to day; a peace that, as is the case here, is shattered by a single event.

I was also taken with the performances of the cast, all amateurs, none of whom give an amateurish performance, who ad libbed their dialogue based on the director’s framework. Perhaps that’s why they feel so realist and unlike the cliché’s we’re usually spoon-fed. These characters are these people and vice versa. Micheal J. Smith Sr. is brilliant as Lawrence; a physically large man who has the demeanour and soul of a lost child while Tarra Riggs portrays the protective mother trying to raise her son and you can see the pain in her eyes, her longing to do right by him and have him experience a better life than her own. And then there’s the young JimMyron Ross whose performance suggests this is his life and all he’s known, not an act. His constant search for friendship is a tragedy etched on his face and when he falls in with the wrong crowd, it doesn’t seem to register, the only thing that shows on his face is the joy of not being alone along with a shyness from being alone for far too long.

Though one viewing was enough to win me over, I was surprised by the resonance and power of the film on a second viewing. This time around I picked up on small moments that either escaped me or were overshadowed the first time around. The timber and language of Lawrence’s speech which suggests that his education level is higher than one might expect. His loneliness and depression at his brother’s death is palpable, clear in almost every action but particularly apparent in a conversation with James in which he explains the differences between himself and his brother with such care and longing that you can almost hear the plea for Darius’ ghost to appear before them. Lawrence and Marlee’s relationship also seemed much more realized this time around and the exchanges carried much more weight. I could almost see the wheels turning in Marlee’s head when she decides that selling the store isn’t the best option; she can be hot headed but she’s not beyond admitting her mistakes and that comes through again and again.

What’s most surprising is the constant feeling of hopelessness, loss and above all loneliness that permeates through the film (surprising because the film doesn’t leave you feeling depressed but rather energized and ready to take on the world). Though they’re inhabiting the same place and time, each character seems to be fighting their own war against loneliness: Lawrence missing his brother, James being alone and friendless and Marlee, a woman and mother missing the help, support and love of a man. Darius’ death may leave a gap in their lives but it also brings them together giving each of them what they need: a feeling of being wanted and needed, of belonging in the world and being missed if they were to suddenly disappear. The closing scene says it all: the three of them sitting quietly in the car on the way to the store, each in their own little world but also belonging to and dependent on each other. Their makeshift family is their ballast.

The more thought I give to Ballast, the further I sink into bliss. This beautiful yet seemingly innocuous film has managed to dig a trench in my heart and sink in for the long run. Every scene seems to carry more depth and power than the last, no moments wasted on empty or trivial scenes. Hammer has edited the film into a lean 96 minutes in which every minute builds character and story.

Though only a blip in the release schedule, a film that came and went with little fanfare, I have no doubt that Ballast will one day be looked at as a masterpiece; a film rich in texture and emotion, a slice of life that transcends its characters, place and time to speak volumes about the human condition.