In His Three Daughters, Natasha Lyonne (left), Elizabeth Olsen (centre) and Carrie Coon star as three estranged sisters who reunite in a New York City apartment to care for their dying father, which forces them to confront past issues and heal together. Photo: Supplied.
Emotional vulnerability shines in this profound tale of grief as His Three Daughters delves into the raw, heartbreaking terrain of strained family dynamics, anguish, impending loss and undeclared love.
Coping with the loss of a parent may be one of the hardest challenges that many of us face. Sorrow can be particularly intense, even though death is understood as being a natural part of life. A poignant portrait of kinship relations, His Three Daughters captivates as it takes us into a scenario faced by many of us who are drawn together on the eve of the passing of a loved one.
Natasha Lyonne, Elizabeth Olsen and Carrie Coon star as three estranged sisters who reunite in a confined New York City apartment to care for their dying father, Vincent (Jay O Sanders, JFK, Hostages, Tumbleweeds), forcing them to confront past issues and heal together. Vincent has reached the end of his battle with cancer and has entered hospice care at home. A touching scene comes when he monologues about his love for each of his daughters.
The situation is tense, but a certain quietude prevails. It’s a cogent reminder of a powerful film that needs no histrionics or elaborate statements to make a lasting impression. It cleanses without being overly maudlin. How does one interconnect over death?
No matter how much we expect such an eventuality, when the time comes, reality sets in with sentiments including shock, confusion, disbelief, sadness and/or depression. Over-the-top theatrics, in the main, are absent. Instead, writer-director Azazel Jacobs (Terri, The Lovers, French Exit) chooses the dramatic path, opting to present the story in a realistic way, developing the characters, exploring the familial themes and the reasons for disharmony. He knows what he wants to convey and how to clearly impact that message with kindheartedness.
With cinematographer Sam Levy, Jacobs effectively swivels the lens to not only communicate an astuteness for being compassionate, but to also capture a tangible sense of confinement phobia, without it being heavy-handed. Nothing feels contrived as the camera angles frequently single out the individual women in direct, solitary waist shots. A feeling of physical discomfort, of allocated spaces, is not exaggerated or noticeable, though a sense of isolation is apparent as the small dramas play out in the flat’s cauldron.
The three estranged sisters have their own personal, but contradictory sense of duty to their father. Coon (Gone Girl, The Leftovers, The Nest) is Katie, who likes to be in charge; Lyonne (Orange is the New Black, Russian Doll, Poker Face) plays the role of Rachel, who is not Vincent’s biological daughter but has lived with him throughout his illness. She accepts her “I’m the stoner” role and leans into that aspect as she starts to think about the reason a person smokes that much and of its consequences. Then there’s Christina, portrayed by Olsen (Kodachrome, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Martha Marcy May Marlene), who is considerate and an arbitrator.
Performances by the three actresses are extraordinary: their feelings emphatic, though delivered in a restrained manner. The different personality types have a certain rapport. Rachel is the idler, constantly smoking and spending a lot of time alone in her room. She relentlessly pursues her character’s truth, stripping it away, layer by layer, again and again. Christina’s portrayal is emotional, the most contradictory. Katie is controlling, tense, all about what she’s transmitting, but you believe she is not lying.
The focal point is the storyline around the sisters’ interactions, rather than the father’s illness itself. Katie and Rachel argue over Rachel’s marijuana smoking in the apartment, and Rachel’s failure to have Vincent sign a Do Not Resuscitate order while he was still fully lucid. Katie struggles to write an obituary for Vincent, and Rachel obsesses over sports betting while refusing to go into the bedroom where Vincent is lying unconscious.
The supporting cast is worth a mention. A hospice worker, Angel (Rudy Galvan), visits the home with nurse Mirabella (Jasmine Bracey) and warns the sisters that their father could die suddenly. Rachel’s boyfriend, Benjy (Jovan Adepo), is frustrated with the way her sisters treat her poorly, after she was the only one to take care of their father for most of his declining years. Jose Febus, as Victor, is a friendly security guard who brings some lightness to the cold Bronx bench that Rachel finds herself sitting on after a sibling altercation.
Overdramatic is simple, exceedingly impassioned and sharply defined. The drama here intrigues, and is more nuanced, complex and thought-provoking.
His Three Daughters, written and directed by Azazel Jacobs, is streaming on Netflix
