As a professional critic, one of my deepest, perhaps most deranged delights is to be wrong about a movie. Basically, I've seen so many that I have a pretty good feel for how a film will hit me, based on who's made it, who's in it, or even the logline. But I relish being surprised. And John Early's latest film is a wondrous surprise, not because it's good, but because of how it's good.
Early is known for his offbeat comedic style, on display as a performer in the genre-bending comedy series Search Party, Dropout's improvised talk show parody Very Important People, and actual talk show appearances, where he and frequent collaborator Kate Berlant commit to bits that essentially satirize celebrity. There's a provocation in his approach that came to an angsty climax in Stress Positions, a COVID lockdown comedy where his lead performance acts like a mounting anxiety attack.
With all this in mind, I imagined Maddie's Secret, Early's feature directorial debut, would also embrace cringe comedy. Perhaps especially because he stars as the title character, a woman juggling a stressful job opportunity and a trauma-rich secret. However, Maddie’s Secret offers something defiantly sweeter, even as it sends up made-for-TV melodramas from the '90s. The film is silly and strange, but even amid campy bits, sincere. So, you'll laugh at its parody elements, but may well be genuinely moved by Early's commitment to this strange and splendid film.
Maddie's Secret is a campy throwback to '90s "movies of the week."
Making its world premiere out of the Discovery slate at the Toronto International Film Festival, Maddie's Secret may seem like a straight-up send-up of those earnest TV movies, where a teen star (think Tiffani Amber Thiessen) would face some contemporary evil or social issue. But like A Deadly Adoption, the underappreciated Lifetime movie parody starring Will Ferrell and Kristen Wiig, there's a clear and ardent love for this admittedly trashy corner of cinema. Early is mocking elements of these movies, but crucially, his eponymous heroine is not the butt of the joke.
Maddie Ralph (Early) is an aspiring chef who begins Maddie's Secret as a dishwasher at a culinary content studio called Gourmaybe. There, she giggles happily with her bestie (Kate Berlant), a lesbian who hits on her almost as aggressively as she stares down anyone who'd dare mess with Maddie. Specifically, this means Gourmaybe's shining star (Claudia O'Doherty), who shares recipes while snarling at anyone who's not her handsy producer (Conner O'Malley).
At home, things are more peaceful for Maddie. Her husband is a teddy bear of a man (Eric Rahill), who absolutely adores her, insisting she's perfect. But the pressure to be perfect pushes Maddie into self-harm behaviors she developed as a girl. That pressure only amps up once her career at Gourmaybe takes off and she becomes an on-camera talent, with the vicious lens of the internet on her.
John Early is brilliant and sly with Maddie's Secret.
Remarkably, as a first time feature director and star, Early manages the balance of comedy, drama, and empathy with aplomb.
The humor in this movie begins subtle. It's in the way Maddie strolls to work, getting lost in thought as she smells a flower, only to have the realization wash over her that she's running late. The performance styles in Maddie's Secret run the gamut from stiff to totally over the top. But that's by design, embracing the traditional range within these vintage treasures of '90s "movies of the week." Where Berlant goes in for goofy leering as a predatory butch, a self-aware gag that has a juicy payoff, Early leans into a much softer performance.
Some might say he's doing drag here, but that suggests a hyper-femininity that's outrageous and potentially even mocking. That's not what Early's doing. Wearing a robust set of boobs and a messy blonde wig, Early isn't being a caricature of womanhood. He's playing a woman. However, because Maddie is desperate to live up to the "good girl" expectations others have for her, the performance is smartly restrained. She is in a cage of her own making, not allowing herself to feel bad in front of anyone else. And so, a tension grows as that pain pulls Maddie into disordered eating, which makes the career that she loves a dangerous place to be. Early manages to play this arc, which veers into a rehab clinic that feels very Girl, Interrupted, with a moving sincerity and a soft silliness that keeps the movie from getting too dark. And his co-stars follow his lead with gusto.
In this space of healing, hurt feels and firm facades abound. For Maddie's endearingly child-like roommate Julie (Vanessa Bayer), that means a cheerful exterior and an obsessive crush on a nurse (Pat Regan), who is unquestionably gay. Then, there's a trio of bad influences (Ruby McCollister, Emily Allan, and Leah Hennesey), who feel plucked from various bad girl movies to create a cool and intimidating coven. This section feels the richest in terms of representing community within girlhood. Well, at first Maddie is reluctant to consider herself anything like the people around her, it is only through sharing herself and her secret with these women that she can break out of the suffocating box she has put herself in.
I left this film in a spin, dizzy about its delicate accomplishments. Not long after, I saw Christy, the Sydney Sweeney-led melodrama, and became only more impressed with Maddie's Secret. There, an established filmmaker and established dramatic actors, fumbled the balance of social issues and accidentally fell into comedic absurdity. Here, Early and his company manage to be funny while never losing touch with the heart of this story.
Basically, John Early is a better ingénue than Sydney Sweeney, which might be the most surprising discovery of the Toronto International Film Festival.
Maddie's Secret premiered at TIFF, with cinematic release TBC.
