Images courtesy of Gravitas Ventures
THIRSTY— 2 STARS
The central character of the small independent film Thirsty with Kickstarter roots is a fascinating one. Played in every detail by Jamie Neumann of TV’s The Deuce, Audrey Allen is a married mother of two. She was born and raised on the predominantly-Black east side of Oakland, California. Audrey’s husband is a Korean-American Oakland police officer, Tae Kim, or T.K., played by Fast and Furious franchise member Sung Kang. Their daughter is a precocious kindergartner, and their son is an infant still breastfeeding. Juggling two kids, work schedules, and meager incomes is the chief source of her frazzled nature, but it’s a loving household nonetheless.
So far, relatable normalcy is plenty present. Alas, there’s more to Audrey Allen. By day, she is a persistent public defender, representing tough cases against systemic failures in the Bright Side of the Bay. In her spare time, the woman takes jiu-jitsu classes, demonstrating a measure of practiced toughness. Audrey also takes frequent responsibility for her delinquent younger sister, Sonia (Thora Birch of Ghost World and American Beauty), who’s ending a stint in a rehab facility. As kids and teens, they both spent time in the foster care system, grew close, and cite their late, chronic alcoholic mother as the feisty inspiration for their mutual stubborn attitude.
With those more-fractured and unglamorous traits now on the table in Thirsty, all signs point to Audrey Allen being a walking hot mess. Honestly, she is, to a damn-near self-admitted degree. On many levels, that kind of character study is its own full-fledged indie movie. However, there’s an unconstrained streak of optimism running through Audrey Allen that is aiming her—and the film—towards something bigger. She is seeking a pillar position in the community that someone with her hardscrabble background normally could never attain.
Audrey Allen—the disheveled, liberal white woman underwater with family duties and low finances—is running for mayor in Oakland, California.
LESSON #1: WHEN A HOT MESS MEETS OPTIMISM—From the get-go of Thirsty introducing Audrey scrounging for the thousands of petition signatures she does not have and recklessly resigning from her lawyer job out of spite, she is putting all of her eggs into this basket, much to the chagrin of her unjaded husband. With goals born from the modest success she has found climbing out of her tough upbringing and leaning on the gritty wisdom she cherishes from the memory of her mother, Audrey identifies a wide gamut of community problems and sees herself as the kind of person with the gumption to attack them head-on. When she talks about this endeavor, Audrey glows, and that brims contagious hope.
Audrey’s opponent is the incumbent mayor, the sharp and well-heeled Maya King (P-Valley’s Brandee Evans), a wealthy Black real estate developer keen to maintain the status quo that lines her income bracket’s pockets and ignores the larger problems of crime, education, and poverty. King has eyes on a senatorial run after Oakland and is a known rival to California Governor Anne Dixon (Kyra Sedgwick in HBIC mode, a nice get for a movie like this). The press expects Maya King to cruise to an easy election victory. Enter the unknown upstart.
Thirsty, written and directed by Emily Abt (Daddy Don’t Go and Toe to Toe), sets a course where the hot mess protagonist is molded and pushed to become a legitimate contender. Playing a partial puppeteer against her adversary, Anne Dixon vets Audrey Allen and grants her $100,000 of seed money for her, at-the-time, zero budget campaign. She also lends Allen her relentless chief election strategist, Valentina Ramos (Briana Venskus of The Walking Dead and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), and appoints Derek Williams (The Haves and Have Nots soap star Tyler Lepley) her new field director.
LESSON #2: NO ROOM FOR RISK ON THE SAFE ROAD—To embark on this serious race requires risks to be taken and stepping into political crosshairs that no longer make the road safe. Optics demand she ignore her sister Sonia, fraying their bond. Likewise, the rigorous election schedule of events and appearances—steered by Derek, who happens to be a lusty old flame from high school—pulls Audrey away from her parenting responsibilities and strains her marriage with Tae Kim. Starting with those and piling on with more, Thirsty plants several obstacles that jeopardize the principles of our gutsy and valiant Audrey Allen.
LESSON #3: WHEN ARE PRINCIPLES COMPROMISED— The moral spine of Thirsty is positing two hefty scenarios of compromised principles. The first tracks the personal ones. Audrey considers herself to be a devoted sister, mother, and wife, only to find herself consumed by this competition. How many mommy moments can she bungle, and how many times can she disappoint the apprehensive husband that’s been warning her of this and other evils the entire time? Will she realize her wrongs and relent, or will she miss the corrective opportunities and become a different person?
Those intimate cracks follow the threat of compromised political principles as well. What happens to the sanity and soul of a good person drawn into the backbiting arena of politics? At what points does she compromise her bedrock values to appease the governor, secure an endorsement, or pander to a certain crowd? Thirsty draws those challenges out and weighs the inevitable guilt.
In the central performance of Thirsty, Jamie Neumann lays this character bare. In each scene representing a defining choice—whether it’s a buoyant stump moment impressing the gathered public or a privately tormented decision—the actress shows emotional mettle that is tangible, mature, and impressive. Naive as she begins, this is far from an adult Tracy Flick from Election. Harsher truths and consequences rightfully burn here.
LESSON #3: NAIVETY VERSUS BELIEVABILITY— That said, there’s a wavering measure of believability that catches up to Emily Abt’s film. It’s not the believability of idealists existing, well-intended hot messes making careless mistakes of work-life balance, or political rookies missing cues and opportunities for improvement. It’s whether a character drawn up like this would even get a seat at the table to begin with, let alone last. One paper, it’s difficult to buy Audrey Allen—a hopelessly naive, progressive socialist Caucasian woman, overflowing with obvious flaws that would be hard for even the best PR team to ease or erase—having even a conceptual chance in hell of competing against the political establishment of a major city, against, no less, a fellow woman, and a minority one at that.
That perception has to be evident or effective, or else all the risk and mistakes feel more like piling on for melodrama than acting as veritable adversity toward a greater good or positive conclusion. Sensible reality doesn’t have a person like Audrey Allen surviving anywhere beyond the vetting stage of actual political games. That feeling is hard to shake while watching a modern-set movie. Viability is lost, and the movie needs that. Underdog stories are indeed rich, inspiring, and a topical present-day dream of many, but Thirsty, longing to echo and honor recent female politicians—right down to the historical figures celebrated in the end credits—is aiming more than a shade too high to resonate fully.
LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#1311)
