The Sweet East: Eccentricism, Exploitation, & Energy Like No Other

I initially came to Cannes with only the intent of seeing what I deemed the most important screenings- those ‘in competition.’ Little did I know the other categories of the festival (Un Certain Regard, Director’s Fortnight, etc.) held an equally high caliber of films as the ‘in competition’ selection, leaving me feeling like I discovered a hidden secret when I stumbled upon The Sweet East. However, it was no secret at all; the theater was completely packed and to even get a ticket I spent half an hour repeatedly refreshing the online ticket office on two phones in hopes of securing my spot. But the antagonizing process of getting a ticket was well worth the struggle as the film lived up to the anticipation. 

Of course, there were other elements that built up the film’s expectations, such as the killer cast featuring Talia Ryder, Simon Rex, Jacob Elordi, Jeremy O. Harris, and several other rising young stars. My personal motivation came from meeting and befriending Tess McMillan, one of the film’s actresses. I approached her on the streets of Cannes, unbeknownst that she was an actress, thanks to her cool outfit and overall unique aura; this cool approachability being a palpable descriptor of the appeal of the rest of the film’s cast. I continued to run into her throughout the festival and made plans to see her film premiere; it came as a sweet surprise that it ended up being one of my favorites. 

The film comes from Sean Price Williams as his directorial debut after an impressive career, most notably as a longtime director of photography for the Safdie brothers. He shoots on a beautiful 16mm film and applies many of his signature cinematography elements: shaky, handheld footage, integral close-ups, and a grainy, pastelly look that contribute to the overall nostalgia of the 90’s that the film provokes. The Sweet East follows Lillian (Talia Ryder), a teenage girl embarking on an extraordinary journey demonstrating the extremes of Americana. She starts in Washington D.C. on a school trip, yet quickly escapes her group and haphazardly joins a group of punk-anarchist teens in an escape of a crazed shooter holding claims of a child-assault ring going on in the basement of a pizzeria they were in, the film’s nod to the contemporary controversy of Pizzagate. She loses the punk group in a trip to the woods and finds herself in the middle of a white-supremacist, neo-Nazi gathering of middle-aged men, and unexpectedly befriends Lawrence (Simon Rex) who quickly becomes an enigma due to his generosity and likable personality clashing with the fact that he is a literal Nazi. Lillian presents herself as homeless and helpless, leaving Lawrence to swoop in and offer her a room in his apartment, something any sane person would run from, yet Lillian jumps at. They go on to live together and enjoy each others’ company for months, until Lawrence is given a top-secret Nazi assignment to be completed in New York City, a trip Lillian sweet-talks her way into going on. It is on this trip she finally leaves Lawrence, conveniently equipped with a massive bag of cash he was supposed to watch over as a factor of the next Nazi agenda. While making her quick escape, Lillian is stopped by two young, energetic aspiring filmmakers, Molly (Ayo Edebiri) and Matthew (Jeremy O. Harris), claiming she is the perfect embodiment of their lead role, and beg her for an audition. She agrees and embarks on the next segment of her journey, as she’s given the role immediately and spends the next several weeks learning how to be an actress in a period piece run by these two zany filmmakers. This chapter acts as a moment for the audience to catch their breath from the craze of the initial events, but is one that abruptly ends when an on-set massacre (where a certain celeb shockingly gets his face blown off) transpires in the neo-Nazis’ search of Lillian and their money, which quickly puts the film’s maniacal tone back in place. In her unbelievable escape, Lillian is saved by one of the film’s crew members, Mohammad (Rish Shah), and taken for refuge to a cabin in the Virginia woods, where Mohammad’s secluded, culty, strictly-religious group resides. She stays for safety from the Nazis, continuously exploiting Mohammad’s admiration to secure an influx of free provisions before making her final escape and eventually returning back home and rejoining her family in South Carolina. 

As crazed and extensive as my summary was, know that it was truly a straightforward abridgement, which in itself encapsulates the true lunacy of the film’s winding journey. The film acts as a time capsule of niche American culture, from its depiction of extremist groups to pop-culture references such as Sweetgreen and Pizzagate that were true tells of who was American in the audience; many of the jokes didn’t land among a largely French crowd, but that made the whole viewing experience even more enjoyable for me as watching the film felt like being in on a big inside joke. And it was a joke, to watch such a satirized version of the America I live in, but despite such ironies, feel a sense of reality for the portrayal of Americana. The film did a great job of showing extremes from opposite sides of a political and social spectrum, while maintaining Lillian as a neutral entity appealing to both sides as means of personal manipulation. 

And that brings me to my personal favorite element about the film: its reversal of societal and narrative norms in an Alice in Wonderland type of adventure, where this time Alice is in control and uses her femininity to manipulate everyone around her. In this way, the film takes control of the typical male-manipulation narrative indoctrinated by the male gaze, and depicts a young woman being the exploiter instead of the exploitee. It is all thanks to her sweet, charming personality that she is able to disguise her true intentions of profiting on other people, and perpetrates a cycle of manipulation. As Lillian continues on her east-coast odyssey, she undergoes a coming-of-age story in the most extreme way possible, as she manipulates group after group to figure out who she is and what she likes. This in itself exemplifies her calculating spirit, as she relies on the assistance of others to find her sense of self, providing an intriguing aspect to a typical tale of taking advantage. In a Q&A with the film’s cast and crew, Talia Ryder explained an element of Lillian’s motivations, “part of growing up is realizing that most men around you want something from you, and it’s also okay to want something from them.” This absolutely encapsulates Lillian’s spirit, as she is perceived as an emblem of rebellion; yet this rebellion is actually against condescending societal norms that limit women from becoming mutually manipulative against patriarchal control. 

Aside from the exceptional underlying motifs and collective aesthetic of the film, the one gripe I did have was its unnecessary use of slurs throughout (especially the R-word!). Although their use did add to the feeling of chaos and the demonstration of an unhinged, politically incorrect Americana, I believe the film did an already-accurate job of portraying these ideas without the need of using offensive language. Independent of its use of slurs, the film tackles interesting subject matter in a delightfully casual way that makes for an easy, enjoyable watch, and ever so subtly forces an interpretation and reevaluation of American culture. Although specific jokes may not have landed among a primarily French audience, the overall aesthetic and vision of the film carried through across language and cultural barriers, proving its achievement in curating a very specific energy of nostalgia and eccentricism. The Sweet East is a wild ride for sure, but when it hits the theaters, is one I believe everyone should take a chance and embark on.