Sara (Samora Smallwood) is having the worst day. Her flight back home has been delayed again and again, she’s just received a phone call with horrible news, and it seems that the future that she once dreamed of is no longer possible. She must now rely on the caring nature of a stranger to deal with her difficult situation.
Sara is the title of the film, it’s also the name of the film’s main character. However, I’m not sure that the name is ever actually mentioned in the film. If it is mentioned, it’s done so subtly that I either completely missed it or have forgotten about it. Regardless, I think the fact that the name of the main character is so unimportant in the grand scheme of things actually plays a major role in the film as a whole. We have this beautiful woman, who, very early in the film, is seen crying–but her name doesn’t matter. She’s an everyman, meant to appeal to everyone willing to watch Sara. She’s normal–and she’s incredibly relatable.
One of the most important aspects of the entire film is the two seconds that Writer-Director Jessica Hinkson gives the gate agent, Elena (Naomi Snieckus), just after Sara walks away from her. Again, Sara is meant to be an everyman. She doesn’t represent one type of person, but rather all people, and it’s made abundantly clear after her exchange with Elena that everything that she says and does has an effect on others. It’s such a small moment in the grand scheme of the film–but it’s so important to the development of both Sara and Sara.
Sara, as mentioned above, is incredibly relatable. Much of that comes down to the writing of Hinkson–but it would be unfair (and nearly impossible) to discount Smallwood’s performance in Sara. This film focuses on the titular character, and she remains in focus for nearly the entire film (with only seconds of the film void of her presence). While she’s brilliant throughout the course of Sara, it’s the first fifteen seconds or so that let the viewers know that she means business as an actor. As she picks up her phone and, more than likely, listens to no one on the other end, she forces herself to tears. Not a tear in the corner of her eye or a single tear that runs down her cheek–but seemingly endless waterworks that I’ve only managed to cry a few times in my life. She’s incredible, and that’s honestly an understatement. Sara is written perfectly in just about every way–but what Smallwood does in bringing her to life is honestly one of the greatest performances that I’ve ever seen.
Intimacy is the key to Sara’s success. It’s clear that Hinkson intended for her film to reach just about everyone, and for the main character to be someone with whom everyone can access. The scope of the film is broad for sure, but the cinematography lends itself to intimacy–strengthening the connection between Sara and viewers. Smallwood is ultimately what allows Sara to come to life, and the film’s director of photography captures every shred of emotion that she produces throughout the film.
It’s hard to say that anything is wrong with Sara, and it’s only my stubbornness that stops the film from being “perfect.” From writing, to acting, to cinematography–every second of Sara lends itself to success. I adore this film, every single piece of it. To Jessica, Samora, and the others: please know that it’s only because I’m as stubborn as I am that Sara doesn’t receive a perfect ten out of ten, that it’s simply the cynic in me that believes nothing in this world (except for my beautiful wife) is perfect.
Written & Directed by Jessica Hinkson.
Starring Samora Smallwood, Naomi Snieckus, & Prince Amponsah.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐½/10
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