Millie makes some very foolish decisions after she disembarks following a panic attack onboard the plane taking her to a new life in New York. Very foolish indeed, and yet there’s something about her that feels painfully familiar to everyone who’s temporarily considered some impossibly stupid pathways when in the befuddling grip of anxiety. Michelle Savill’s congenial first feature Millie Lies Low takes its likeable protagonist deep into that cringing nightmare, and while the script occasionally glosses over some obvious plot defects, the modest film and its characters win our sympathies without reservation. Easily relatable to adults as well as teens (it debuted in the Berlinale’s Generation14plus section and shortly heads to SXSW), Millie could stand tall if properly spotlit on streaming sites and boutique theatrical.
Having nabbed an internship at a prestigious Manhattan architectural firm, Millie (Ana Scotney) is ready to leave her New Zealand home and begin her exciting new adventure, but just before the plane taxis she panics and demands to get off. Back at the airline counter she can’t admit to herself or others that it was a panic attack (she claims a tainted salmon wrap from the airport made her ill); even so, getting on the next plane still means buying a whole new ticket, which she can’t afford. Dejected and ashamed – a brightly lit billboard in the waiting area with her photo as the image of local girl made good doesn’t exactly help – she pretends to be on her scheduled lay-over and calls best friend Carolyn (Jillian Nguyen) asking for money owed, but Carolyn’s unable to come through.
Millie heads back to town figuring she can go to one of those quick loan joints, but since she sold her car to Carolyn she no longer has any collateral. She tries sleeping at her old school but gets kicked out, and then dons a motorcycle helmet and rain poncho to crash a party incognito so she can get the car keys back without anyone noticing. Seeing all her friends together having fun and getting on with their lives without her, including boyfriend Henry (Chris Alosio), is a funny feeling, made worse when she overhears former classmates question whether she really deserved the internship. Feeling the need to preserve everyone’s expectations, she sticks a New York subway map on a wall and Skypes Carolyn, pretending to already be living the Manhattan dream.
The script abandons or glides over several inconsistencies: Carolyn questions the speed with which Millie arrived yet oddly doesn’t push her, though far more niggling is the presumption that Millie could have been starting a new life in New York without any money (how was she even going to get out of JFK?). It would have been better if Savill and co-writer Eli Kent had thought such things through, but it’s possible to set those issues aside and join with Millie as she finally admits to her mom Marlene (Rachel House) what’s happened, even though that doesn’t stop her life continuing into a tailspin propelled by amusingly bad choices.
While hardly to the same degree, we’ve all been there, covering an embarrassment with a small lie that then needs to be reinforced with other lies in order for it to seem believable. That fear of being caught up in a whopper finds a nice visual resonance when Marlene organizes a Filipino bamboo pole dance, the Tinikling, whose potentially foot-punishing slams together of the poles, and the nimble dexterity required to avoid such an outcome, parallel Millie getting trapped by her fear and then maladroitly trying to resolve things.
Character build-up is nicely achieved through small details and the crescendo of a wry nonjudgmental humor that makes Millie a universally sympathetic figure despite her extreme need for approbation, which clearly hides deep insecurities. Even when miserable in a makeshift tent in her mother’s backyard, Millie feels validated by a string of Instagram likes to the faked Times Square photos she posts, the brightness in her eyes a telling critique of an entire generation’s dependence on social media hearts for their sense of self-worth. The understated performances – not just the excellent Scotney but Alosio and Nguyen as well – further our identification and reinforce the film’s overall realism, reflected as well in the natural lighting and Andrew Stroud’s solid indie lensing.
Director: Michelle Savill
Screenplay: Michelle Savill, Eli Kent
Cast: Ana Scotney, Jillian Nguyen, Chris Alosio, Rachel House, Sam Cotton
Producers: Desray Armstrong, Angela Littlejohn
Cinematography: Andrew Stroud
Production design: Heather Hayward
Costume design: Gabrielle Stevenson, Sara Beale
Editing: Dan Kircher
Music: Evelyn Ida Morris
Sound: James Hayday
Production company: Lie Low Limited (New Zealand), in association with Sandy Lane Productions, Long & Short Story Studio, the New Zealand Film Commission
World sales: Reason8
Venue: Berlinale (Generation 14plus)
In English
100 minutes
