A Little Prayer (Theaters)
Angus MacLachlan delivers melodrama done right—gentle, novelistic, and deeply humane.
What is it: A man tries to protect his daughter-in-law when he finds out that his son is having an affair.
Watch if you like: Junebug, Ordinary People, The Station Agent, Manchester by the Sea, On Golden Pond
News and Notes:
Released today
Premiered at Sundance 2023
Schmear’s Verdict: A Little Prayer is a tender, novelistic Southern drama—melodrama done right—where quiet truths and luminous performances outweigh spectacle.
A Little Prayer, written and directed by Angus MacLachlan, playwright and screenwriter of Junebug, is a film that exudes an energy deeply reflective of its setting in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. A loping Southern drawl is not only how the characters speak but also how the movie moves and communicates.
It centers around a family and their dynamics. Specifically, it focuses on the older patriarch of the family, “Bill,” played by David Strathairn, and his daughter-in-law, “Tammy,” portrayed by Jane Levy. There's nothing salacious going on between them; they share a deep friendship and connection, something Bill feels even more profoundly than with his own children.
His son (Will Pullen), who works with him at a sheet metal factory, is a philandering lush. His daughter, played with the force of a hurricane by Anna Camp, can't be relied upon.
This leaves Bill and Tammy. They are kindred spirits. Every morning, they wake to a gospel alarm clock: an unseen woman wandering the neighborhood singing hymns. While the others find it annoying, these two see beauty in it.
The camerawork is notably mellow, assuming the role of an omniscient narrator, drifting into the characters' most intimate moments and spaces—bedrooms, doctor's appointments, and workplaces.
Bill is a Vietnam veteran. He is respectful and polite but also reserved and distant. There's a hint of darkness in him, a history he has perhaps left behind but hasn't entirely confronted, subdued under the surface of Southern gentility.
The film’s characters have so much depth, akin to a well-crafted novel. MacLachlan’s script softly delves into the intricacies of men and women, generational differences, and the secrets they keep. The words speak loudly, even if the volume is turned down. Everything is truthful; it's melodrama done right.
A Little Prayer might seem lacking in visual stimulation, but the gentle filmmaking is intentional. The cinematography showcases the sun-dappled south. Speaking to DP Scott Miller, he mentioned that MacLachlan wanted him to convey the "emotionality of light"—both its natural presence and its existence within each character. It makes sense since the film itself addresses serious topics with the genuine levity found in real life.
When the film concludes, with Levy and Strathairn connecting on a bench, we are deeply connected to them, understanding their challenges, strengths, and weaknesses. It's akin to reading the final, beautifully emotional chapter of a book.
