Liv Hill doesn’t have famous parents. And when picked to be the star of this movie she wasn’t living in London. It’s a miracle she got the part.
British indie films, striving for authenticity, often wobble when it comes to casting. Plenty of well-connected thesps convince as members of broken Britain. But just as many, when tucking into junk food, look like nervous tourists on a safari.
Thank goodness for Hill. She’s electrifying as multi-tasking mardy arse Sarah from Margate. Sarah’s mum is bipolar, which means Sarah has to care for her younger brother and sister. She makes money on the side (via the world’s most frill-free hand jobs).
Sometimes she goes to school. When her classmates are hostile, she lacerates them verbally, which gives her performing arts teacher (Cyril Nri, so spry) an idea. If she wants, she can perform a stand-up routine at the end of the year.
Hill’s voice is full of surprises. She delivers many of the potty-mouthed tirades with a poignant flatness. Fuelled by vitriol, Sarah is actually running on empty. And when she inevitably makes it up on stage,
Hill doesn’t make her sound too accomplished. Sarah’s random gulps are a crucial part of the mix and she offers a seamless portrayal of a comedian still finding her feet.
Some of the best dialogue is between Sarah and her mum, Karen (Sinead Matthews, superb). When Karen says she wants to get a job, Sarah says: “They wouldn’t employ you as a f***ing speedbump.”
Not everything works. There’s a sequence in which something awful happens, as the camera weaves through an amusement arcade before coming to a stop before a busy road. Director/co-writer James Gardner is groping to say something. Ken Loach or Andrea Arnold would have gone for something simpler and more precisely devastating.
Still, Jellyfish — moving, provocative, often hilarious — is quite a debut. Gardner and Hill. Remember those names.
