Rating: C-
The gulf between intention and execution is often vast and unfathomable.
There are a lot of great ideas in Mayday, the ethereal feature debut from writer/director Karen Cinorre, ideas that, in a vacuum, would make for an intriguing and engrossing film experience. Undoubtedly the film is wrapped in a compelling mystery, and it’s clear that Cinorre has something important to say as a filmmaker and storyteller. But for all its grandiose ideas and designs, Mayday never quite comes together in a way that makes the film particularly memorable.
If anything, it’s more frustrating than anything. All of the pieces seem to be in there for a convention breaking genre film but none of them seem to be put together in a way that makes the film or its narrative entirely work. To be sure, Cinorre has established herself as a filmmaker worth watching. Her vision is clear, even if her execution is not, and even for all its faults Mayday displays the passions and creativity of its filmmaker front and center.
The film follows Ana (Grace Van Patten), a catering waitress who, after suicide, finds herself in a strange and magical world of perpetual war. The battle lines of this mysterious war are clearly delineated between men and women, and Ana quickly falls in with a group of hardened soldiers who make it their life’s mission to enjoy freedom and take down as many enemies as they can. Though initially she relishes in the strengths and freedoms provided by this world and her new companions, Ana soon realizes that the life of a killer isn’t for her and she begins searching for a way back home.
Cinorre’s attempts to craft an intriguing feminist parable are certainly well-intentioned and it almost works. There’s definitely a beauty in the characters and scenery, which is captured well by Cinorre’s script and the cinematography of Sam Levy. However, the story never manages to gel into anything coherent, coming off instead as a series of ideas loosely strung together in narrative format.
While this set up establishes an intriguing mystery, it never pays off with satisfaction. Refusing to handhold is one thing, but Mayday plays out as if Cinorre was never quite sure what direction she wanted the film to go. That plays well with the magical realism designs of the film, I suppose, but the construction of the film lends itself more to frustration than anything else.
Still, the world is not without its interest. It almost feels like a feminist retelling of Peter Pan, featuring Lost Girls instead of Lost Boys, and it’s not too difficult to compare the strange world Ana finds herself in to Never Never Land. While there’s no particular magical elements of the story or its setting, we can’t help but feel as if we’re thrust into a modern fairy tale. And it works as a metaphor for the feminine struggle.
But you can’t help feeling that Mayday could have and should have been something more than it was. As is, it’s a decent enough introduction to a filmmaker with something to say, but the lack of cohesive narrative suggests she still hasn’t quite figured out how to say it. Still, with her vision and eye, some refining of her narrative style portends potential greatness in the future, and marks Cinorre as a director to watch even if she isn’t quite there just yet.
Mayday is now playing in theaters and on demand.
