Pansy wakes up angry. It’s easier that way. Hiding behind one common, safeguarded emotion is far less exhausting than attempting to navigate the full spectrum of feelings that threaten to overwhelm her.
Many viewers may find pessimists like Pansy (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) and the way she treats those around her frustrating to watch for nearly two hours. However, Hard Truths grounds itself in humility, making it unmistakably clear she isn’t simply difficult—she’s exhausted.
Hard Truths is in cinemas from 6 March.
It is revealed to us that grief manifests in different ways. For Pansy, it has made her withdrawn, retreating into herself and clinging to the belief that the world, including her own family, is against her. But as the film unfolds, audiences will come to understand that this is far from the truth. Director Mike Leigh (a long-time collaborator with the talented Baptiste), brings his signature blend of realism and tenderness, ensuring that Pansy is not just a character we observe from a distance but someone we recognise. Someone we might not always understand, yet someone we still love.
I wonder if this film would have resonated differently with audiences before the pandemic, before so many of us exhibited anxious behaviours like obsessively cleaning our homes, feeling claustrophobic in crowds, growing shorter in temper, and questioning authoritative systems such as the police and government. Moreover, Pansy’s behaviours reflect how, even in a universal and deeply isolating moment whether it’s losing a loved one or enduring a global crisis we can still feel profoundly alone and exhausted in our suffering.
Yes, Hard Truths validates how easy it is to succumb to negativity, showing that sitting in despair often feels simpler than trying to hold onto optimism in a world that continually tests our resilience. Yet, the narrative reminds us that we don’t have to go through it alone. Pansy’s family is continually trying to hold out an olive branch, a gesture she struggles to accept but one that remains, patiently waiting for her to reach back.
I did expect more of a climactic resolution at the end, a neatly wrapped-up conclusion, a happily-ever-after of sorts. But that isn’t in Hard Truths, because sometimes that isn’t reality. Uncovering and accepting hard truths takes time.
Learning to trust others and, perhaps more crucially, oneself isn’t a linear process, nor is it as effortless as the movies so often suggest.
So, if you love films that capture raw emotional complexity and reflect the quiet struggles and joys of everyday life against the gentle backdrop of London’s suburbs, this may be just for you.
