Rating: NR | Runtime: 72 minutes
Release Date: October 13th, 2023 (USA)
Studio: Synergetic Distribution
Director(s): Arthur De Larroche
Writer(s): Micaela Wittman

I just want to leave.

Remy & Arletta is not going to be an easy film for a lot of people. There are those who won’t be able to fully comprehend what’s happening because they’ve never experienced the sort of abusive relationship Remy (Micaela Wittman) endures at the hand of her mother (Amy Benedict’s Eilene). And then there are those who know it all too well and for whom watching it unfold on-screen might prove too much to bear.

That truth is a testament to the film’s authenticity. Despite being directed by Arthur De Larroche, this is very much Wittman’s movie. Not only does she play the lead, but she also adapted the screenplay from a novel she wrote based on her own life. And she’s the editor. And a producer. So, everything goes through her where it comes to Remy’s struggles. The need to escape her mother’s physical and, perhaps more importantly, psychological torment. The friendship with Arletta (Riley Quinn Scott) that facilitates that escape. And the blurred lines between.

Remy craves being seen and yearns to be reminded that she matters since her mother cannot supply either. Eilene forgets her daughter is alive when it suits her and exploits the control over her life that she’s able to wield when it does too. So, Remy uses Arletta’s kindness to avoid going home. She feeds off the attention—knowing her best friend wishes to take their relationship to the next level, but not wanting to risk losing that safe space by rejecting or even acknowledging it out loud. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her too, though. It’s complicated.

So is the future. Arletta has money and prospects to pursue. Remy has none and thus doesn’t believe any dream is worth pretending that it might come true. And as this war inside her escalates with the walls of graduation closing in, so too does the itch to rebel. That exacerbates an already volatile dynamic with her mother, triggering a series of self-destructive acts in her fake pious mold. If Eilene is going to punish her for thinking she’s doing the things she herself does (alcohol, drugs, sex), why shouldn’t Remy start actually doing those things?

Down goes the self-esteem. Up comes the frustrations that arise from realizing what she’s doing. And her friendship with Arletta suffers both because Remy needs it now more than ever and because the guilt and self-hate has her believing she doesn’t deserve its unconditional love. It’s the sort of rocky road that benefits from a writer/performer who surely understands the ins and outs of its unavoidable pain. And the fact Wittman survived its chaos also allows for the ability to share a message that things can get better. That they will get better.

We don’t need it spoon-fed either. So many takes on this type of story shoehorn in a catharsis or breaking point when it comes to Remy and Eilene or a clear demarcation wherein time simply lets Remy and Arletta’s friendship drift away. Maybe those things will eventually happen here. Maybe they must happen. But Wittman and De Larroche refuse to fall prey to heavy-handed sensibilities by showing it. They instead focus on the potential for hope with a smile that promises Remy won’t keep contributing to the chaos only to end up defeating herself.

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Riley Quinn Scott & Micaela Wittman in REMY & ARLETTA.