《從不，很少，有時，總是》 Starring: Sidney Flanigan, Talia Ryder, Theodore Pellerin, Ryan Eggold, Sharon Van Etten Director: Eliza Hittman WRITER-DIRECTOR Eliza Hittman returns to the adolescent female focus of her insightful first feature, “It Felt Like Love,” though that film’s hunger for sexual experience has made way here for an uneasy reckoning with its collateral damage, as a young woman struggles to take control of her body after finding herself pregnant. The film provides an impressive showcase for talented young screen discoveries Sidney Flanigan and Talia Ryder. Establishing that Autumn (Flanigan) is something of an outsider in her rural Pennsylvania community, Hittman opens with what appears to be a high school talent show. Unlike the jolly 1950s-style dance group or the cheesy Elvis impersonator that precede her onstage, there’s nothing frivolous about Autumn’s act as she accompanies herself on acoustic guitar, singing The Exciters’ hit “He’s Got the Power,” her sad eyes heavy with silver glitter. She falters only briefly as a male student in the audience yells “Slut!” during her song. But the same jerk’s crude mockery of her from across the diner where she goes with her family after the show gets under her skin. Although Autumn’s caring mother (Sharon Van Etten) and her cousin Skylar (Ryder) offer support, her stepfather (Ryan Eggold) refuses to say anything encouraging about her performance, making it clear he’s had enough of her sullen withdrawal. Right from the start, Hittman plants the idea of girls drawn into compromising situations and judged harshly for it while boys get bragging rights among their snickering peers. The lyrics of the song Autumn performs — “He makes me do things I don’t want to do / He makes me say things I don’t want to say / And even though I want to break away / I can’t stop saying I adore him / Can’t stop doing things for him” — are echoed later in her responses to the questions of an abortion clinic counselor, with the multiple-choice answers providing the movie’s title. Hittman’s script pares away all unnecessary detail, so we first learn of Autumn’s pregnancy in a simple shot of her slight belly bulge before she confirms it at a local clinic where she’s shown an anti-abortion video. The awful solitude of her predicament runs through the film like a sorrowful undertow, countered by the warmth of her closeness with Skylar, who’s more like a sister than a cousin, even if they tend to talk around anything too sensitive. At no point does Autumn confide in her mother. It’s Skylar who takes the initiative at the supermarket where they work as cashiers for a pervy boss, when she lifts a wad of cash to cover their bus fare to New York. The two arrive in New York with nothing but the address of a Brooklyn reproductive clinic. When her pregnancy turns out to be further along than Autumn was told, the termination procedure becomes more complicated, requiring them to stay two nights with no money for hotels or meals. As she revealed in her earlier films, Hittman is an exemplary director of young actors, coaxing unimpeachably natural work here from her leads, in which their courage, fears, resilience and gnawing uncertainties play out across their faces as they kill time riding subways, in video arcades or simply wandering around the bus terminal. Flanigan is a real find, her background as a musician deftly incorporated into a stunningly nuanced screen debut, in the opening and then again in a later karaoke-bar scene in which she puts a haunted spin on Gerry and the Pacemakers’ “Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Crying.” Ryder is equally compelling, and their lovely chemistry gives the movie a gentle emotional pull. The moments of understated tenderness between them seldom involve much direct discussion of their situation. But there are notes of lingering poignancy, such as a fight that causes Skylar to stomp off, later reconciling with Autumn in a beautiful scene in which their innate understanding of one another outweighs any need for an apology. Hittman’s storytelling is seductively loose, impressionistic, but key episodes give shape to the girls’ unsettling odyssey. One involves them reconnecting with a fellow passenger from the bus (Theodore Pellerin), who made no secret of his attraction to Skylar, trying to impress her with his knowledge of the cool New York music scene. Hittman refuses to judge either Skylar for using her sexuality to get some cash out of him or the horny stranger for taking advantage of the tight spot that the girls consistently play down. Flanigan’s face speaks volumes as she watches her cousin making out with him. There’s never a showy moment in either of the lead performances, and yet we come to know these two young women intimately during a journey more often traveled in silence than conversation. Raw, haunting and painfully real, the film is perhaps better defined as a moving snapshot of female friendship, solidarity and bravery. (SD-Agencies) | 