SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL — Above all else, “Jimpa,” directed by Sophie Hyde and co-written by Hyde and Matthew Cormack, is a film about motherhood. Which is odd, because it’s not clear that any of its characters (Hannah, played by Olivia Colman, in particular) are aware of that. It’s this misunderstanding and lack of certainty that makes the film tragically miss the mark — tragic, because it was so damn close.
Hannah is a daughter. And a filmmaker. And a mother.
She reiterates these simple facts to her father, Jim — or Jimpa, as he is called fondly — on a few different occasions. She states them each time in what one can only assume is order of importance — initially, she is daughter first, filmmaker second. In another instance, she is filmmaker first, daughter second. Every time, mother seems to be an afterthought in Hannah’s self-identification.
“Jimpa” is, in many moments, touching. In theory, it should be. The film unpacks deeply affecting themes of parenting, LGBTQ+ identity, sex, grief and intergenerational differences, to name a few — which is precisely the issue. The film, similar to Hannah’s self-identification, is unsure of what it’s really all about. And while it is beautiful for a person or a story to contain multitudes, things become complicated when these multitudes battle for power. As in Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar,” a metaphorical fig tree branches out within “Jimpa.” But just when the audience tries to reach for one of Hyde’s brilliant figs, it plops to the ground and is lost among the others.
Despite this, each ripe fig is still worth digesting.
“Jimpa” is a semi-autobiographical story about Hannah, like Hyde herself, creating a movie to process her complex family dynamic. Hyde’s own child, Aud Mason-Hyde, portrays Hannah’s nonbinary high schooler, named Frances. A breakout role for them, Frances is genuine, human and rich with depth. Perhaps this authenticity can be attributed to their own personal connection to the story, but Mason-Hyde is a refreshing joy to watch on screen, nonetheless. Every moment of Frances’ wavering innocence and self-discovery is poignant.
Frances and her parents, who live in Australia, are going to Amsterdam to visit Jimpa, played by John Lithgow. As explained and unpacked thoroughly by Hannah, Jimpa came out as a gay man during the 70s, not long after she was born. For 13 years of Hannah’s life, her mother and Jimpa co-parented their two daughters before Jimpa decided to move to Amsterdam to embrace his identity. An activist and prominent figure in the gay rights and AIDS advocacy space, Jimpa is unequivocally proud of his identity. It’s no surprise that as a young queer person, Frances feels so connected to their grandfather. An idea sparked by Jimpa, Frances decides they want to stay in Amsterdam long-term, where they can discover themselves more freely.
And while the break from a more conservative life in Australia may sound like just what the sixteen-year-old needs, it’s evident that Jimpa may not be the best guardian for Frances, even before he is introduced on screen. Neither Hannah nor Frances’ father (a quiet, standout performance by Daniel Henshall) is particularly keen on the idea. Yet, in her obvious fear of conflict, Hannah plans to let Frances come to these conclusions on their own.
Jimpa, while certainly a gay icon with a chic nipple piercing, is a hedonistic, outspoken man. Lithgow commands every inch of the space and every moment of conversation he enters — his character lacks the softness everyone so desperately wants him to have, until the third act. Lithgow’s performance doesn’t once falter. However, if given the opportunity to dive further into Jimpa’s nuance, he would have been all the more impressive. It seems that Hyde keeps this film iteration of her own father at arm’s reach. Perhaps a purposeful choice, she doesn’t understand him, and neither does the audience. The result? Jimpa is, for much of the film, a villain.
From repeatedly calling Frances his “grand thing” (a bit that was completely overplayed), to his wholehearted bisexual erasure, Jimpa is a caricature of the callous lack of effort displayed by members of older generations to respect and understand the identity of today’s youth. Hyde’s vision here is clear and Lithgow’s portrayal is on point. Yet, the generational differences between Frances, Hannah and Jimpa are, very often, incredibly cliché. Frankly, it’s hard to believe that a man who spends so much time in queer spaces has not yet changed his ways. And if viewers are hoping for major character growth from Jimpa, it is not nearly as evident as one would like.
The queer issues in this film are certainly legitimate, but in execution unfortunately read almost as mocking of young LGBTQ+ identities — which can likely be attributed to the over-layering of themes. In briefly glossing over too many topics, “Jimpa” doesn’t treat these concepts with the respect and care they deserve. Despite this, some of the sweetest moments exist in the film’s youthful, queer scenes. Frances’ first sexual interactions with a woman are beautifully intimate and tender, perfectly representing the naiveté of this time in their life.
Some of Hyde and Cormack’s most aesthetically sound choices are within the flashbacks that occur throughout the film. These abstract glances of young Jimpa, Hannah, Frances and other important people in their lives are visually stunning and euphoric. The lack of concrete meaning in these conceptual moments offers a brief respite from the rest of the film. They say the most important things, without saying anything at all.
Despite the muddled quality of “Jimpa,” Colman’s performance is breathtaking. An Academy Award winner and two-time nominee, her talent is no secret. Alongside Lithgow, her name alone will draw viewers to “Jimpa.” Colman has a tight grip on Hannah’s subtlety, and each particular choice is made with exquisite purpose. Touched on gently, Hannah is also grappling with her own identity as a cisgender, heterosexual woman. She clearly desires a non-monogamous lifestyle. However, it appears that she — as called out by her child — does not have the communication skills to work this out in her marriage. This concept is fascinating and well worth diving into, but not given enough attention among a myriad of other complex issues. Colman’s interactions with Mason-Hyde are incredibly tender and undoubtedly the strongest scenes in the film, making it a story of motherhood and childhood more than anything else — if only Hyde had settled more soundly on that theme. The bottom line: Hyde needed to be more selfish in telling her own story.
Hyde is a Sundance veteran. Her most recent film, “Good Luck to You, Leo Grande,” received accolades after a successful run at the 2022 festival. She is a talented writer and director, a visionary with an immense care for her work that is evident on screen. It’s a challenge to successfully convey a story inspired by one’s own experience — no viewer can ever understand the inner workings of a creator’s mind. “Jimpa” is an example of this, but perhaps Hyde is more self-aware than given credit for.
After multiple disappointing meetings with collaborators, Hannah is frustrated with everyone’s misunderstanding of her film, which is intended to unpack her parents’ divorce. She admits that no one is getting it. Hyde, in this nod to her own struggles as a filmmaker, at the very least acknowledges the convoluted nature of “Jimpa.” Again – this film was really so damn close.
“Jimpa” is about a mother, a filmmaker and a daughter — and countless other things, dangling like figs from the tree of complex womanhood. Where it succeeds, it soars. Where it falters, it leaves viewers yearning for what could have been.