Stories We Tell

This morning I told my partner Haoie my characterisation of a relative I no longer have any meaningful relationship with, if I ever did. The story came with its low points, of course, to say he's a bit of a shithead would put it lightly, but it also came with its humour. 

There's almost always a bit of comedy to our stories of our family; each person has a unique relationship with their relatives and a different version of events. After all, we were all standing in different places when my grandmother backed her car into a parked Jaguar that she failed to see in the rearview mirror. We were all in different stages of life and probably had different feelings about this incident, which we expressed differently. What happened next, I'll keep to myself, because it casts an even worse light on the aforementioned relative above. 

Like me, Sarah Polley seems to be obsessed with stories and how we tell them. I have seen her recent work, Women Talking (2022), where she uses her fascination with altering perspectives to her advantage. Each woman has a different approach to the same problem- they are constantly in danger within their community. The question becomes do they stay and fight, or leave. To tolerate their circumstances is not an option. 

Women Talking isn't the first time Polley artfully weaves together multiple perspectives of the same story. Stories We Tell (2012) is ostensibly about Polley's relationship with her father, at least that's what the description says. As family histories often are, it's a lot more complicated than that. 

Polley interviews everyone in her immediate family, and beyond, who witnessed the relationships between her mother, her father, and their greater social circle. Polley presents the retelling of the events in a series of interviews with her siblings, family friends, and fellow actors who worked with her mother, among others. Their versions of events are often contradictory and shown up against each other with little clarity, leaving the viewer to piece together their own reckoning of events. 

Put simply, this is a story of getting to know her parents' identities, particularly her late mother, Diane, who died of cancer when Polley was young. Diane, in contrast to Polley's father Michael, was a social butterfly who led a hectic lifestyle. Her children and friends recount a woman who was always busy and on the move. As a result, she lived a varied and vivacious life, full of juicy secrets. 

The film centres mainly on Diane's relationship with Michael and her frustrations with their differences. Michael, who is interviewed extensively during the film's runtime, openly discusses his lack of interest in sex and how he relates better to flies than other humans. As the story unfolds, it becomes quickly apparent that Diane had to get her needs for love and intimacy met with others. Herein lies the complications of the story. 

There's so much to unpack in this film. It's unashamedly layered and for every poignant moment, there's another delightful touch from one of Polley's charming family members that made me laugh out loud. I particularly liked the recounting of the story from the perspectives of the siblings and how every sibling had a different impression of their mother. Some judge her, others celebrate her right to freedom and the pursuit of pleasure. But all of them share their love and the ongoing pain they hold for their mother.

Polley seems to be compelled to tell this story to make sense of herself, her family, and what really is the truth. She never neatly defines truth in this story, rather, she lets us linger in the mess with her. It was relatable to think about the complexities of the various people that make up a family, all with their own interiority somehow existing in a greater nucleus that links us all together, whether we like it or not. 

Yet, the candidness of her family and the openness with which they approach their recounting of events is incredibly brave and refreshing. This film is never one thing, but many, it touches on themes beyond family and pushes out the edges of the story to explore acting, directing and filmmaking. Unsurprisingly, many of Polley's relatives are passionate about art making. This film challenges us to think about what we choose to share. At one point, Polley's father, Michael, muses on how much we have to say versus how little we share of ourselves. 

Stories We Tell plays out like one of the best episodes of the fantastic podcast Normal Gossip and the end reveal was a wonderfully fun cherry on top of a scintillating story. There's truly nothing more compelling than the stories of ordinary people. 

I watched Stories We Tell on Kanopy, a streaming service I got free through my library! Yet another reason to love our libraries.