In a word, the opening scene of Disfluency is disconcerting. A young woman, Jane (Libe Barer), walks down a dark hallway filled with twinkling Christmas lights while loud dance music plays. Near the end of the hallway, she stumbles upon a nearly empty lecture hall. The only occupant is a professor (Molly Hagan) who is giving a lecture on disfluency, the condition that disrupts the continuous flow of speech. Suddenly, everything turns upside down and Jane is in the backseat of her parents' (Ricky Wayne and Diana de la Cruz) car on the way to her childhood home. She failed her last college class and is spending the summer at home with her sister (Ariela Barer). As the summer wears on, Jane must come to terms with what happened during her last semester at school.
The multicolored Christmas lights from the opening scene fade in and out for the rest of the film, lingering in the background and referencing something the audience doesn't understand until much later in the film. There are clues about what happened to Jane that led to her failing her last class. The camera and Jane search the police station again and again, but always from a distance. It's the best way for the audience to know what happened. The Christmas lights and the lecture hall are Jane's personal hell, to which she returns again and again against her will.
Director: Anna Baumgarten
Writer: Anna Baumgarten
Stars: Libe Barer, Ariela Barer, Chelsea Alden
Mental health is often difficult to portray on a movie screen. It's an internal battle that takes place every second of every day, but there's no way of knowing when it will manifest itself on the outside. Jane suffers from PTSD from a traumatic event that occurred during her last semester at university. She has moments where she involuntarily remembers the events of that night and other times where she completely dissociates and loses track of time. Certain objects will always be connected to that night. The editing of the film allows the audience to live inside Jane's brain throughout the film. We lose long periods of time, just like Jane. We feel claustrophobic during her panic attacks and always feel like we're one step away from seeing those Christmas lights flashing before our eyes. It also helps that Barer's performance as Jane is extraordinary. She brings great depth to the role and there's a third-act monologue that's revelatory.
Even with the film's heavy subject matter, Disfluency is drenched in warmth, nostalgia and sunshine. It's summer on a lake filled with people Jane has shared over a decade of history with. The high school friend (Chelsea Alden) she lost touch with who now has a son, her childhood sweetheart (Dylan Arnold) and her sister's friend who wants to be an influencer (Kimiko Singer). Writer-director Anna Baumgarten writes these characters with such affection and richness that they seem like the people you knew in high school. There's a mix of emotions that comes with returning to the place you grew up and sleeping in your childhood bedroom. Even if you’re past the age of feeling like a child, that version of you still exists within you, and it tends to come out when you’re around people and places that knew you when you were young. It’s a distinct feeling that’s a mix of melancholy and joy, almost impossible to articulate, but one that radiates effortlessly from the screen in Disfluency.
Over the course of the summer, Jane offers to help her high school friend, Amber, learn sign language so she can communicate with her deaf son. The two have morning lessons on the pier, and Jane mentions that what she loves about sign language is that it requires a person’s full concentration. You can’t be mindlessly scrolling through your phone and speaking sign language the same way you can with verbal communication. At the risk of spoiling a moment from the film, Disfluency puts that idea into practice in one of the most powerful scenes in the film — perhaps of any film all year. It’s a testament to communication, to the things we say and don’t say, to how we say them, and to how difficult it can be to speak our truths.
The film opens with a little dedication: “to my sisters.” Above all, Disfluency is a love letter to people who provide unconditional support. Jane and Lacey are played by real-life sisters. It’s hilarious that their roles are reversed in Disfluency. Libe is older in real life, but plays Jane, the younger one. Regardless, their dynamic is sparkling and genuine, the kind of fast-paced, lived-in bickering that can only come from having spent a lifetime together. It also wouldn’t be surprising to learn that the entire cast are actually childhood friends. They feel like the friends you had in high school, whether you’re a friend or a friend.
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