Do I believe in America? That’s a good question. While I wasn’t raised in a particularly patriotic household, I grew up in Reagan’s 1980s and graduated high school in the early years of Clinton’s 1990s. During those formative years, I was told that hard work would pull you up the socioeconomic ladder, that in every way that mattered we were here for each other, and that you could be anything you wanted to be.

In my experience, America doesn’t operate quite like that. The proof is the epidemic of homelessness we’re experiencing right now. The guy who was just re-elected President is a billionaire, as is his first buddy. Both of these men could literally end homelessness nationwide. But they don’t want to, and we don’t seem to want them to. Why? Because we generally don’t care about the vast ills and misfortunes that befall unhoused people. That is, until they happen to us or someone we care about.

That’s where the political gets personal. As you read this, you might feel secure in your life. You’re not, and like me, you’re far closer to being unhoused than you are to being wealthy. What happens when things go bad, fast? What happens if you deal with it by not dealing with it? That’s the premise of the impressive feature debut, Scrap. 

When we meet Beth (Vivian Kerr), we immediately notice the contradictions. On the one hand, she’s sleeping in swanky satin pajamas and a cat’s-eye sleep mask. On the other hand, she’s sleeping in the back of her car. She ignores the voicemail from the collections agency, but she positively leaps for her phone when a call about an interview for a job comes in.

We watch Beth get dressed, brush her teeth, and demolish a candy bar.* At the interview, she’s poised, intelligent, and the slightest bit desperate. They’ll let her know. After all that, Beth just barely seems to remember Birdy (Julianna Layne). That would be her five year old daughter, who’s currently staying with Beth’s brother, Ben (Anthony Rapp).

Ben’s got his own difficulties. He’s a successful author of fantasy novels, yet he really wants to write a biography of Billie Holiday. Unfortunately, his agent tells him that the world doesn’t need a White guy writing about Billie Holiday. Adding to the stress are the fertility treatments his wife Stacy (Lana Parrilla) undergoes. Stacy and Ben love each other. She loves that he administers the nightly hormone injections, runs soothing aromatic baths, and tracks all of her health data without complaint. The way Ben and Stacy look after Birdy, we get the sense that they could be great parents and that they run an orderly and loving home. 

So how do they solve a problem like Beth? Is Beth a problem to be solved? She’s not making things any easier by refusing to tell Ben she’s been laid off, by spending money she doesn’t have on junk from eBay, and by injecting a whiff of chaos when she asks to temporarily move into Ben’s house and lies about her circumstances. Stacy isn’t thrilled that Beth is in her home. Ben feels like he’s been taking care of Beth her whole life. Beth feels like she’s become God’s favorite cat toy and everyone is judging her for it. As a result, things get a little messy.

There are two things Scrap isn’t. It’s not an annoying family comedy where everyone is sitcom-level wacky, and it’s not a high pressure drama where everyone hates each other. I’d first like to thank director Vivian Kerr for not forcing me to sit through either of those things. Instead, Kerr has made a compassionate character study with humor and sophisticated filmmaking. For example, watch the scene where Ben and Stacy learn the results of the fertilization treatments. Kerr shoots the sequence without dialogue, and we learn everything we need to know through camera angles, edits, and facial expressions. We also know that Beth has a very real fear of becoming unhoused. The film never tells us that, yet over and over, we see her pass by encampments. The possibility looms in the background, but never in a heavy handed way. It’s highly efficient filmmaking, and Kerr wisely knows when to linger on a moment, when to speed past, when to dig into the dialogue, and when to show character silently. The tone is light when it needs to be, heavier when necessary, and feels real. As I watched this film, I kept thinking that it would fit nicely in a double feature with Martin Scorsese’s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.

Kerr’s screenplay is just as solid as her direction. Not only does she fully understand these characters, she understands the connections they have to each other. We learn that, after the accidental deaths of their parents, Ben was forced to raise Beth. Their relationship has the sibling aspect as well as a parent/child dynamic, and that makes for fascinating conflict. Every time Beth lies to Ben, she spins stories about a more successful life, one with a dynamic career and a satisfying romantic life. Beth needs Ben to see her as a success, and she resents the fact that Ben grudgingly cares for her. But it’s in Ben’s nature to be a caretaker, even though it constantly stresses him out. Over and over, problems arise and I thought to myself, “You guys could solve this if you only asked for help.” The fact is, some people are good at asking for help. Beth and Ben are not those people. It’s smart writing that doesn’t call attention to itself.

The performances, from top to bottom, are solid and in sync. As Beth, Kerr dodges the easy mistake with a role like this. She’s not playing a wacky chaos imp of a character, and from what I sensed with the character’s history, she wasn’t a perpetual screwup. However, Beth has had both bad luck and bad responses to that luck. Those flaws make her an interesting and (unfortunately!) relatable character. It’s not often that a writer/director is also able to turn in a strong piece of acting.** She’s well partnered with Anthony Rapp as Ben. He’s the caretaker in the family, the reliable one. In Rapp’s performance, I thought I sensed the occasional flash of resentment from Ben, the idea that he constantly has to handle everything. It’s also worth mentioning Lana Parrilla’s strong work as Stacy. A lesser film would portray her as a shrewish killjoy. Instead, we see that Stacy’s work as an attorney, the fertility treatments, and time spent looking after Birdy have pretty well taken up her bandwidth. To expect her to deal with Beth living in her house is a bridge, toll road, and expressway too far.

Do I believe in America? Considering that we’re one of the world’s wealthiest countries, we call ourselves the greatest country in the world, but we do a piss poor job of helping the unhoused, I’d say I largely don’t. However, I do believe in indie movies like Scrap. It’s a low-key gem that announces a new and necessary voice in film. 

*I love character moments like that. Beth brushes her teeth, and then eats a candy bar, thereby defeating the point of brushing her teeth in the first place. It tells us everything we need to know about her.

**I’m looking at you, Quentin Tarantino.

Tim Brennan Movie Critic

Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.