Mermaid

Bluesky

When a writer/director acquires international fame by way of a film about a man sticking things up his bum, it creates a certain expectation. Like it or not, Tyler Cornack now has to contend with fans who are looking for something a little way off the beaten path, which is why you might hesitate when you learn that his latest work is a love story about a man rescuing a mermaid. Never fear. Splash this ain’t.

Doug (Johnny Pemberton) is, as he puts it, really good with fish but not so good with women. Early on in the film he loses his job because the strippers in the bar where he works are uncomfortable with his clumsy attempts to be romantic. This is a particular problem because he’s a percocet addict and he owes a lot of money to his dealer, Ron (Robert Patrick), who intends to collect. Nobody has a high opinion of Doug. He inherited his parents’ house and boat and has done as little as possible since. Relations with his ex (Julia Valentine Larson) are at a low ebb, and even his daughter Layla (Devyn McDowell) is beginning to see through him. But everything changes when, taking the boat out with the intention of killing himself, he suddenly spots something unusual floating in the water.

He calls her Destiny, because it seems that they were destined to be together. Like many of her cinematic predecessors, she can’t speak, but the way she looks at him when he’s stuffed her full of sedatives convinces him that they have something special. She’s been badly injured so he devotes himself to nursing her back to health. He doesn’t mind that she has an inhuman face, razor sharp teeth and scales all over her body. As she lies helpless in the bath, he finally has someone he can talk to.

The film hangs on Pemberton’s performance, and he imbues Doug with a sweetness that makes us feel for him despite his deeply misguided actions. There’s no actual sexual exploitation, so Doug is able to think of himself as a nice guy even after it becomes obvious that keeping the mermaid prisoner is causing heartbreak. In the gynopiscine role, Avery Potemni alternates between stupor and animalistic ferocity. This is clearly an intelligent creature, capable of reason, perhaps from a civilisation of her own, and as she adjusts to the shock of her circumstances there are moments of deep pathos that have nothing to do with romance. These are balanced by absurdism, black comedy and no small measure of black vomit.

The creature work by Wayne Beauchamp and his team is first class, especially when one considers that it has to work consistently in water, on land and when being scraped across carpet. Clearly a lot of the budget has gone into this, but Cornack knows how to work well with small locations and limited numbers of extras. Indeed, the film’s best scene simply features Patrick and Tyler Rice, who plays his son, standing against a simple backdrop and laughing. It’s Cornack’s confidence in delivering gems like this that marks him out as a director with real artistic skill, and not just a purveyor of schlock, regardless of his subject matter.

The film is described as a love letter to Florida and that’s evident in everything from the colour palette to the costumes, not to mention Larson’s wonderfully trashy delivery. McDowell is also great, ignoring everything that child actors are told to do to look cute, and mastering resentment and misery to great comic effect. The story itself doesn’t contain many surprises, though Cornack once again demonstrates a flair for the revolting that reminds one rather of the work of Roald Dahl. That’s fine, as for the most part it’s well paced and entertaining enough – as well as being a splendid response to any number of exploitative fantasies about acquiring a romantic partner or best friend from the sea which have nothing like this level of self-awareness. It also manages to call out all-too-commonplace attitudes to disability.

One of the more unusual pleasures at this year’s SXSW, Mermaid doesn’t quite have the high concept gutsiness of its predecessor, but there’s plenty to enjoy about it.