If These Walls Could Talk 2 (2000)

Related only conceptually to the original If These Walls Could Talk, this sequel is an anthology film (a TV film made by the reputable HBO, as with the first) portraying the life trials of three unrelated lesbian couples, who each lived in the same house during different periods of time. It's a very emotionally charged and politically meaningful movie, with a great cast boasting Michelle Williams and Ellen Degeneres. The impeccable Vanessa Redgrave won an Emmy, a Golden Globe, and a Screen Actors Guild Award for her breathtaking performance in the first segment.

Year 1961

Rainbow Rating: Five Rainbows out of Five. (5/5)

The phrase this 1961 story brings to mind is "preposterously magnificent;" or perhaps "evisceratingly brilliant" gets to the heart of it more accurately. From the very first moment it had me yearning to rip my heart straight through my rib cage and throw it as far across the room as it will go, to spare myself the bittersweet agony. It starts out immensely beautiful and then takes a turn for the brutally depressing... which itself was immensely beautiful in its own melancholic way. The only shame is it didn't receive the feature length film in its own right which it sorely deserved.

The narrative concerns Edith and Abby, two lovers in their twilight years who have spent nearly their entire lives together. The strength of their immutable bond is apparent from the start. But when Abby passes away, distant relatives who barely knew the woman come to pillage her Earthly possessions and kick the person she loved out of the house they shared and paid for together. Aside from being a fantastic drama and one of the greatest anythings I've ever seen, it's also a strikingly affecting illustration of one reason why marriage equality is so incredibly important.


Year 1972

Rainbow Rating: Three Rainbows out of Five. (3/5)

The second segment takes place in the politically charged 1970s among a group of college women who share the titular house. They're heavily involved in the Women's Rights movement with their fellow classmates, but trouble arises when their hetero brethren decide the group's message will be better recieved if they kick out the lesbians.

The clever twist is, our protagonists fall into some ignorance of their own when one of the group falls for a butch lesbian who believes in strict gender archetypes, which they see as flying in the face of the women's movement. It's more compelling as a political story than as a romance, but the acting is excellent throughout.

Year 2000

Rainbow Rating: Two Rainbows out of Five. (2/5)

To be perfectly honest, this story wasn't great. It concerns a lesbian couple and their quest to choose a sperm donor for their child. But there really didn't embellish the story much at all. Other than a few flourishes of depth, it was mostly light-hearted fluff. Essentially all they do is flip through the book of candidates and choose one, plus a sex scene.

I wasn't a huge fan of the segment, but I loved the actresses and I understand why they chose to end it this way. After so much heartbreak, they wanted to end it with some love and happiness. Much better than ending it on a sad note. Since this film is so true to life, it's good that we get to end it looking up. The film encompasses nearly 40 years of time, hopefully in another 40 years none of these discrimination issues will even be relevant anymore. We can at least hope.

Sugar Rush by Julie Burchill (2004)

Rainbow Rating: Five out of Five Rainbows (5/5)

Sugar Rush is a 2004 novel by Julie Burchill that was turned into a TV series in the UK. Since the series is not available here in Region 1, I got the book instead.

I had seen it described (once) as a shallow fantasy story. Considering the premise is: a girl moves to a new school and promptly scores the affection of the head-of-the-totem-pole most popular girl, I was willing to believe it. But the concept didn't affront me -- we have, after all, been subjected to heterosexual fantasies since we were children. Even as toddlers we are fed Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Pocahontas. If hypothetically Sugar Rush's gay daydream were to show us the other side of the coin for once, that's something more than worthy of a look.

It was with a feuding mix of intrigued elation and embarassed chagrin that I discovered how utterly off-base the 'fantasy angle' was in describing Sugar Rush. The last thing I was expecting to find from Sugar Rush, was exactly what it is: one of the most disgustingly poignant and frighteningly insightful books I've ever read. Mind you, it's not poignant in a universal way, where I can say "read this book, it will change your life." It's poignant in the shockingly idiosyncratic way, where I have to wonder if -- in my specific case -- the author has been watching me live, in order to write this story. I'm a little bit terrified by this book, but only because it's been so long since I've revisited the unfortunate misadventures of my early romantic youth.

I was fully prepared for Sugar Rush to be superficial, gaudy, maybe even as bad as those preposterously graphic porn novels for houswwives Wal-Mart sells about ravishing princes and gross idealized rape scenarios. But it wasn't. Not at all. I actually found it to be quite a sincere novel. Far from shallow, it's daringly real.

It's neither as eloquent nor as romantic as Annie On My Mind, but there's no shame in being beaten by the best. It's a different aesthetic -- one that I'm less fond of. But it's one that is, in all honesty, exceedingly more true to my actual teenage years than Annie is. Annie represents idyllic, perfect love, while Sugar Rush presents a more accurate depiction of the sordid little lives we lead. At its finest moments, Sugar Rush manages to accurately capture the naive, butterflies-in-the-stomach fun of being young, juxtaposed against the horrible rough edges inherent in the coming of age. Side by side you have the light-headed excitement mixed with fear that you get from brand new experiences, when you're young enough to feel like anything can happen; And then comes sorrow, the dread, the existential confusion that accompanies divorce, lost friendships, school. The self-doubt, the unbridled enthusiasm, the awkwardness, the drugs... portrayed just how I really experienced them all as a teen.

I was pleased to find that Maria "Sugar" Sweet wasn't quite the archetypal "popular girl" ruling the school like she had been portrayed in some write-ups. As a matter of fact, her popularity lasts all of about one paragraph, from then on out she's more of an outcast misfit. I certainly have nothing against popular people (love 'em), but two people alone in the world clinging to each other for warmth -- that's my favorite kind of love story. This novel takes a familiar set of angst and imbues it with a new modernity.

SPOILERS!!!

I generally don't find it necessary to delve into spoiler territory in my reviews, but it's impossible to discuss the impact of Sugar Rush without doing so. So I strongly discourage those who have not read the novel, who think they ever might, from reading any further portion of this review.

While an upcoming tragedy was distinctly foreshadowed, I was expecting something categorically different, perhaps an ill-fated out-ing like in a Nancy Garden novel. I think the disastrous and illuminating phone call with Stella is the moment where the reader is supposed to realize Stella and Maria are two terminally selfish, woefully clueless peas in a pod. And I did briefly consider it, but I shrugged it off. You have to understand, my mind was set on this being a love story. An unadventurous straight-A private school prep falls for the informal but passionate city school girl? Where have I seen that before? I was fully expecting this to be the crude, unkempt 00s update of Annie On My Mind. My mind wouldn't let go of the idea that they would end up together until the gangbang scene, putting me right in the mindset of Kim and allowing me to be quite a bit as flabbergasted as she.

It's hard for me to even process this book. I have to look back on scenes like when Maria cheered Kim up after her disastrous school presentation and wonder, in light of the ending... what was the motive there? I suppose Maria was a good friend some of the time, it wasn't ALL about attention. But she still did manipulate Kim. But Maria probably didn't even realize how she was manipulating Kim. That's sort of the point, that she's simply clueless and blind.

Suffice to say, Sugar Rush mirrors what I've gone through quite ferociously. It scarily mimics a few aspects of my history that I have no intention of getting into, but what was most striking about it was the thought process Kim went through. It's not just that she was duped, but that she was duping herself to an extent. She held on to hope longer than a person reasonable should have, looking at everything that Sugar did and figuring out a way to keep believing they were meant for each other. Kim had a conclusion in mind, and morphed the circumstances to support that conclusion, rather than looking at the circumstances and deciphering what they mean. My real life tragic flaw is the very same, when it comes to love I make excuses and manipulate the benefit of the doubt until I can "reasonably" hold on to hope. Until it eventually all tumbles down, when the benefit of the doubt gives way to hard facts.

I'm really glad Zoe and Kim ended up together, though. I was always hoping they would be friends again, I never felt they should have really parted ways in the first place. I was shipping them without ever thinking they had a chance to be together. That confrontation scene at the end was exquisite. All in all I just have to say this novel was impeccable at every turn. The writing was a little odd at moments, but the story was flawless and brilliantly handled.


Aside: Sugar Rush the TV Series

Sugar Rush became a hit TV show on the UK's Channel 4 in 2005 & 2006. To prep myself for reading "Sweet," I watched a few episodes of the TV series. As a TV show, it's quite decent. Coming into it blind, I'm certain I would enjoy it a lot. But as a devout fan of the original novel, I find the TV interpretation hard to swallow. It's a show inspired by the characters of Sugar Rush (or even just its premise) rather than being an adaption of Sugar Rush itself. The characters are similar to how they appear in the book, but the plot does not align in the least. Zoe does not even exist in this adaption, although a random character named Saint (Zoe's nickname) begins appearing in season 2. The TV version of Stella never even abandons Kim & the family, thus altering her character dramatically. Basically, the TV version is devoid of every little thing that makes Sugar Rush bloody brilliant. Yet, if I can mentally divorce the show from the source material, I would enjoy the TV version as a quality (though trashy) gay teen drama that came out right around the time we in the US had the stellar South of Nowhere.


Aside: "Sweet," the Sugar Rush Sequel

Oy, Julie Burchill's sequel is utterly awful. One of the worst books I've ever read. It pisses all over the very human depth of the first novel. It follows the pointless misadventures of Sugar as she toys with people and incompetently fucks her life up, while constantly soapboxing about issues she has no right to point fingers at in the light of her astounding wastoid existence. And the ending... god. Stupidest ending ever. I'd pay a hundred bucks to remove this novel from my memory.

I'm not an unfair reviewer though. While Sweet violently vomits on everything I happen to consider remotely decent, worthwhile, or intelligent, it does entertain something of an interesting character study. Not unheard of in the wake of recent TV shows like Girls and Enlightened, which feature monstrously selfish and mind-bogglingly clueless protagonists. If you're a fan of those shows, you may well find much to appreciate about Sugar Sweet's complete lack of morals or self-awareness.

Empress of the World by Sara Ryan (2001)

Rainbow Rating: Three & one-half out of Five Rainbows (3.5/5)

Empress of the World is a quaint little romance novel from 2001 written by Sara Ryan. Within its pages, a teenage girl named Nicola meets a group of friends at a summer learning program, whom quickly become her inseparable confidants. She then falls madly in love with another member of this clan, a gentle Southern girl with the unlikely name of Battle.

 'Empress' is far from the best novel I've ever read, but it has a definite power to it. Despite the countless tropes it employs, it's a genuinely unique piece of work. It's kind of strange, half of what I read is "young adult" fiction, and yet this is the first time in years I actually felt like I was reading a kids' book. Despite the characters being almost college-age, plus the smoking and drinking of alcohol, and the references to sex and drugs, this book reads like it is meant for middle school or younger. The writing is ceaselessly straight-forward, though not without its charms, and the scenes are often only a few sentences long. It actually becomes very jarring, having mere glimpses raised up to be scenes, and chapters tend to end abruptly in the middle of action I'd really like to see develop further. But beneath the frustration lies an excellent adventure. 

Giving teenagers the run of a campus (their summer program takes place at a university), provided a fun bit of independence and made the characters seem a lot older than they are. It gave it sort of a Zoey 101 feel. It made me nostalgic for college, more than anything else. The characters were pure and naive, but in an endearing and fairly true to life way. Like many young adult novels, it doesn't shy away from portraying alcohol in a positive light. And, like Annie On My Mind, the drinking is used subtlety to add a pinch of mystery and adventure to a beautifully romantic scene.

The romance itself, for the most part, is actually pretty generic. Where this novel shines with notable fervor is in its depiction of the core friendship between Nicola and the other kids she met in the program. Their friendship develops quickly but not at all unrealistically, into a do-or-die allegience and an effortless rapport. The many scenes of pragmatic Nicola clashing against bossy, extroverted crazy-nerd Katrina and soft-spoken but strong-willed Battle are fun, free-spirited, and vividly genuine. I would love to see a sequel focused on Katrina, her character was so much fun.

 I don't know what to say about it other than that it was kind of a trip for me. Juxtaposing the juvenile writing style with the college-esque characters, then adding in the powerful wistfulness of its 'fleeting summer of youth' theme, sort of threw me for a loop. I would definitely recommend this novel for fans of friendship and slice of life stories; in that category it is fairly immaculate. But for romance you'd do better to read Annie On My Mind. Yet I'm proud to say that this is another humble, pure-hearted novel about two girls in love, without the murder, suicide, promiscuous sex or soapboxing that sometimes plagues lesbian literature. This is the kind of romance I believe in with mine own heart.

I also strongly urge you to get the Audio Book version as read by Lauren Davis. She really brought the characters to life, in fact I gave the book an extra half-rainbow rating for it.

Sara Ryan also wrote a sequel, titled Rules for Hearts. But it also appears to be a stand alone novel and doesn't pick up with Battle and Nic's story, but rather expands on Battle and her estranged brother Nick. Unless I get very desperate for YA lesbian romance novels, I won't be reading that one, considering Nic and Katrina were the characters I really loved in Empress of the World and the storyline with brother Nick was a thread I actually didn't mind leaving unresolved. And luckily, there doesn't seem to be a shortage of top-notch Lesbian fiction these days, so don't expect a Rules for Hearts review from me. But if you do enjoy Empress of the World, I encourage you to read Rules for Hearts as well! Bless Sara Ryan for writing it, so few of these novels seem to ever get sequels (and Lord would I like them to!)

Annie On My Mind by Nancy Garden (1982)

Rainbow Rating: Five out of Five Rainbows (5/5)

Simply the finest romance I have ever encountered. Just finished rereading it and it was yet imbued with as much unspeakable magic as ever prior. No, I'm not much of a literati. But I can without question count this as my favorite book, behind the last few Harry Potter novels.

I probably cried the first time I read it, I think I vaguely remember that. And yet this time... it seemed so much darker than before, somehow. Even though I knew what to expect. I think ignorance was easier to swallow then. Today I've lost touch... with how anyone could be so blind... how an otherwise decent person could be so cruel, so truly evil as to hate love. Sounds freaking naive, doesn't it? Stupid even, for me to say something so childish? Well... I suppose this is "Zenlike Immaturity," after all. ;)

To describe the beauty of "Annie..." would be difficult with words, for its strength exists on the spiritual, or at least the romantic, level. It aptly captures the indescribable wonder of youth, and the purity of love. On the technical front, it's an impressive and inarguably important piece of Young Adult literature. It is unflinching and unafraid, yet never falters from its message that samesex love is not invariably a walkway into sorrow. It remains true to life without resorting to ugliness. Alcohol and cigarettes and sex, these subjects are presented without the slightest negative connotation. Surprising and admirable for a book that's often taught in schools, it treads not by the letter of the law but by its spirit, supporting love and morality without preaching vain adherence to the outdated taboos that riddle scholastic materials.

I emailed Nancy Garden once. If you are a fan of her or the book, you really ought to drop her a line. The response she gave me was beautiful, saying that I would meet an Annie to my Liza someday. I can't say I'm sure it's true, but life has already gifted me so much more than I ever dreamed possible, especially in my youth, that I can't honestly say I'd mind if I never do. If the best life can give me is good friends and happy times, that is so much more than enough. So much more... than I ever thought I'd receive.

South of Nowhere (2005 -- 2008)

Rainbow Rating: Five out of Five Rainbows

Romance dramas are one of those TV genres which I love with all my heart, but am extremely discerning with. The glitzy 90210 spiele is not my kind of scene, nor is the cheeky modern chic of the Sex And The City crowd. I'm more into the original WB aesthetic: Dawson's Creek, Gilmore Girls. A little more wholesome and moral, a little less overwrought or convulsing. I'm not sure if WB wholesomeness is all that true to life either, but the FOX sex & money mayhem just doesn't feel relatable to me.

I landed on South Of Nowhere, the groundbreaking Teen Nick original which I've had on my to-watch list for quite some time. Unfortunately I've never had the Teen Nick channel so I had never been able to see it. As it would happen, the reason I've waited this long to get it on DVD amounts to a misconception. Expository write-ups about the show (on Wikipedia, for example) portray it as being about a girl who questions her sexuality when she befriends a gay girl. I misinterpreted that as: a bicurious straight girl with a gay friend. Not as interesting of a setup, to me. But only a few episodes in, it becomes clear that both the girls are gay, and in fact the series revolves around the romance between the two of them. Ironically, by the end of the series it wouldn't be out of line to contend that Ashley (the friend) is some level of bisexual while Spencer (the first character), is solely interested in women.

South of Nowhere definitely has more of a WB feel than a FOX one. I loved watching it with the utmost of thoroughness. I couldn't identify an overarching theme or message in the series (which is something I like to find in a drama), but the characters are solid, the plot is decent, and the highest praise I can give any show: ...it had me frequently yelling at the TV screen! The twists were shocking and the emotional investment was immense. Not even The Good Wife has inspired quite that reaction in me. South of Nowhere is a uniquely beautiful and touching series, and very entertaining.

The cinematography is gorgeous. It has this definite "shaky cam" thing going on, which reaches a peculiar 'meta' level when at one point the main character starts carrying a camera around and randomly recording whatever's going on! I'm sure the odd angles and jittering must annoy a lot of people, but as a fan of found footage movies, I dig it. My guess would be it's done to foster a feeling of closeness to the action, or realness. Or even just to heighten the action itself, and add an extra modicum of suspense. In any case, it gives the series a very *literal* edginess and makes it feel distinctly cool, not to mention modern. Helping the mood is a [i]perfect[/i] soundtrack of hip alternative rock.

SoN was an incredibly innovative series, not just for being a drama about teen lesbians broadcast on a teen-oriented channel alongside the likes of Drake & Josh, but for being among the first programs in any demographic to star and revolve around lesbian characters, and for doing so with such grace and humility. Often when one of TV's various taboos is guillotined, it is handled with sensationalistic fervor to garner publicity and ratings, but South of Nowhere tells a subtle romantic tale with the quiet dignity befitting its story. As a result, South of Nowhere may never have recieved the notoriety it so clearly deserves. But, in exchange for fame, it was able to tell an endearingly sincere story that has touched so many lives in a way no other program could.

I found it fantastically refreshing to watch a romance show again. I wish I had any idea of where to go after South of Nowhere. I'm not sure there's another program like this on the planet. There are some interesting UK programs, e.g. Sugar Rush. But they're completely unavailable on DVD/legal download stateside, and who knows if they foster the wholesome WB perspective I like in a romance. It might be a long time before I get my romance fix again.

That's why South of Nowhere is the most underrated TV show of all-time and the best lesbian-themed TV show to date.

Jack & Diane (2012)

Rainbow Rating: Four out of Five Rainbows

When I heard this movie existed, I immediately had to watch it; although the inconsistent tone was obvious even just from the synopsis blurb. A lesbian romance werewolf film? Where are they going with this?

The cheesy intro scene paints Jack & Diane as a dimestore werewolf b-movie. But 90% of the film seems to ignore the werewolf subplot entirely, and what we have is just a tender and tumultuous romance story about two teenage lesbians not unlike ones you've seen before.

As a romance film it is exceptional, with shades of all the greats like Fucking Amal and My Summer of Love, though it doesn't reach those heights. It's a little on the impressionistic side, which I don't favor, but the romance and storyline are real enough to sustain it. There were moments of genuine poignancy. The characters weren't quite as fleshed out as they could have been, but the important aspects shine through and by the end I found myself believing in both these people, and feeling for their struggle. At its best there were definite tidbits in which the uncomfortable, emphatic, mind-boggling experience of young love is fully invoked, coaxed from the ether.

As a horror film, on the other hand, well if that's all you're watching it for you'll be disappointed, but it's competent enough at sewing horror when it tries to be. Jack & Diane may not have 1/10th the balance of rich horror/romance tones cultivated by critical favorite Let the Right One In, but I found the 'scary' moments in J&D a dozen times more effective than any in LTRO. The imbalance actually serves to make the little shards of horror all the more unexpected and jarring.

And then there's by far the most horrific scene in the film, which has nothing to do with werewolves. This movie takes one peculiar, unforeseeable foray into cinema verite rape, defying all convention and (possibly) good story telling. Admittedly the scene does have genuine plot repercussions, even though it involves neither of our main characters. However, the sheer length of it was definitely unnecessary, and there are dozens of other viable ways the necessary plot function could have been reasonably achieved, so I do find myself questioning the wisdom of creating this scene. Mind you this isn't some graphic I Spit On Your Grave type segment, but the "found footage" Point-of-View makes it rather harrowing all the same. Maybe the film's creators wanted to remind the audience that this is, in fact, a horror movie, even if only 10% of the time.

The rape scene threw me off completely and I did have trouble getting back into the film afterward... but eventually I managed to come back into it with about 89% of the enthusiasm I had before that point. I was especially won over by the hilariously awkward privates-shaving scene, the perfect kind of coming of age fodder to show the unnerving newness of being young and in love.

All in all I found Jack & Diane genuinely shocking and when it took its turns to horror, I sincerely couldn't guess what the outcome would be. Is one of them going to end up dead? Both of them? Is it imaginary/symbolic or real? I'm sure the point of the werewolf was some thinly veiled Ginger Snapsian subtext, but I've yet to quite work out the theme as yet. No doubt repeated viewings will illuminate the mystery.

Overall I was very satisfied with Jack & Diane. Given the uncanny mix of content matter, it could have been an all-time favorite film for me -- with some heavy editing. But as is, it's still one of my favorite romance dramas (number 5 or 6 at the moment) and I can't fault a great film for being (merely) great. The soundtrack was also good. Very hip as well as varied.

I've long felt that horror and romance are destined to combine into some amazing, all-time favorite film for me. I thought that film would be Let the Right One In, until I actually watched Let the Right One In. Jack & Diane isn't quite there either, but we're getting closer. Funny that I've never really cared for werewolves and still don't, but between this and the impeccable Ginger Snaps 2, werewolves are starting to takeover my list of favorite films.

Hannah Free (2009)

Rainbow Rating: Five out of Five Rainbows

As a general rule I stay(ed) away from 'advanced age' romances. I can remember what it was like to be a teenager, and naturally I know what it's like to be an early adult, but I can scarcely imagine what it must be like to be old. Not yet. And besides, what's more powerful than first love? What's more exciting than that tumultuous period of first discovery, right?

I discovered how wrong I was when I watched If These Walls Could Talk 2, HBO's lesbian romance TV anthology film. The first segment was about two older ladies who had spent nearly their entire lives together. It had me wanting to rip my heart out of my chest from the very first moment, first from joy, and then from utter despair when one partner dies and the other is left, without the protections inherent to marriage, to deal with the callous, uncaring in-laws who barely knew the deceased and could not care less about whatever bond the two may have shared.

It was breathtakingly ingenious  one of the greatest and most heartbreaking things I've ever seen. So I immediately scrambled to find more advanced age romance movies and Hannah Free immediately popped up.

Hannah Free is billed as 'the lesbian Brokeback Mountain.' "An empty boast," I immediately told myself. Brokeback Mountain is a staggering achievement in film history, a flawless masterwork of sweeping bittersweet romance. Yet... to my unimaginable delight, Hannah Free may well be as good as Brokeback Mountain after all.

This film tells the story of a woman with the unlikely name of Hannah Free, whose wanderlust is as boundless as her last name entails. But the seasons in the sun are long gone, and now she fritters away in an old folks' home, confined to a hospital bed by injury. By her side always, is the one she loves... not physically, but incorporeal as a hallucination or ghost. It's dually heartwarming and heartbreaking to see her railing at a spirit who may not be there. The bond they share is so viscerally strong.

Hannah Free lacks the epic cinematography, the conceptual grandeur, the succinct directorial flourishes that allow Brokeback Mountain to blow minds and win awards. But the story it tells is every bit as good, if not better. The people and circumstances and dialogue it portrays are every bit as real, every bit as illuminatingly genuine. And this movie had me bawling as much as any movie I've ever seen.

That's certainly not to disparage Brokeback, one of my all-time favorite films. Brokeback Mountain plays with gender mores to lusciously paint an essential and enlightening point about the nature of love. Hannah Free never pushes the envelope, never strikes a chord intended to ring out in the annals of time. But the points it makes are subversive in their own way, and essential as well. It tells us that the Well of Loneliness is not the only end for one who "dares" to love one who is of their same gender. It tells that miracle love knows no gender bounds, and it tells us that love can transverse decades. The portrait it paints of elderly life is as shockingly unglamorous as Brokeback Mountain's tragic arc is shockingly glamorous (in cinematographic terms), and both visions have truth to them.

Admittedly. the soundtrack is generic. Like, I think they borrowed it from The Weather Channel. But in a way I don't mind, because the stark simplicity of the soundtrack sort of forces you to focus on the story. Lacking the powerful force of contemporary music makes the story seem a little more sincere. Despite the incredible melancholy of some of the content, it never feels contrived or maudlin because they're not using the typical tricks employed by the Oscar crowd.

What Hannah Free is, is pure unadulterated romance. It's the Annie On My Mind of films. Even though this and Annie have nothing remotely in common story-wise, they both hit the mark of perfect love. If you're looking for something accusatory, biting, tumultuous, this may not be the film for you. But if you're one who believes real love still exists, one who believes love is as pure and wide and unbreakable as a mountain, Hannah Free will resonate as deeply with you as it has with me.