The experimental mechanics of Clio Barnard's new film, “The Arbor,” don’t interfere with its incredible, visceral impact. A mesmerizing documentary/drama hybrid, “The Arbor” is a blunt portrayal of late British playwright Andrea Dunbar. Best known for “Rita, Sue and Bob Too” and its subsequent film adaptation, Dunbar was a prodigy who wrote her first play at age 15, basing it largely on her life in the housing projects of Bradford, England. Dunbar lived on the social fringes, suffering the fates of abusive relationships and destructive alcoholism until she died of a brain hemorrhage in 1990 at age 29. She left a legacy through her work, but also through her three children, all of whom live in the shadow of their mother’s colorful but tragic life. Barnard spins Dunbar’s tale with kaleidoscope fragments, allowing shards of fact and fiction to present a semblance of a whole.

The caption at the beginning of the film states, “This is a true story, filmed with actors lip-synching to the voices of the people whose story it tells.” And true it feels—the interviews are not burdened by camera contrivances, and the actors are modestly restrained by the voices they depict. The atmospheric opening with mangy dogs in short focus leads us to Dunbar’s two adult daughters, Lorraine and Lisa (played by Manjinder Virk and Christine Bottomley), who recount a childhood memory of being trapped in their bedroom by a fire. Lorraine, the eldest, remembers naïvely starting a fire to help keep herself, her sister and her brother warm. She maintains that their mother routinely locked them in by removing the doorknob, but Lisa insists that she remembers the doorknob falling off by accident. Gross neglect or innocent misfortune—two perspectives rooted in personalities born of Andrea Dunbar.

One might expect that the lip-synching device would add a certain fallacy, but it has the opposite effect. The raw emotion in these powerful interviews is heightened, and the actors are a constant reminder of that potent reality. These interviews/dramatic recreations are intercut with an open-air staging of Dunbar’s first play, as well as archive footage of the writer herself. Each component is artfully woven together into one of the most compelling portraits of an individual I’ve seen committed to film. The play, from which the film takes its name, is staged on the grounds of the housing estate, Brafferton Arbor (aka "The Arbor"), where Dunbar grew up. Current residents gather around to watch the performance, a depiction that hardly seems 30 years removed. The contrast of drama within the documentary is slight, clever and persuasive. Just as an actor stands in for Dunbar in her own play, other actors stand in for the personal disclosures of friends and family.

The emotional center of "The Arbor" is a gradually unfolding interview with Lorraine, who follows in her mother’s footsteps, succumbing to substance abuse and becoming a victim of numerous failed relationships with the most devastating effects. Born of a Pakistani father, whose relationship with her mother spiraled out of control, Lorraine—for reasons that are quite obvious—is  the child who most bears her mother’s burden. But Lorraine’s bitterness is supplemented by Lisa’s forgiveness and the apathy of their brother, Andrew, who was only 6 when his mother died.

The shattering accounts are like tempered blows crafted with assertive matter-of-fact honesty. The portrait built from Dunbar’s life and work looks strangely familiar through cinephilic eyes. You can’t watch Dunbar’s brutally honest scripting without thinking of a new generation of British filmmakers, such as Shane Meadows and Andrea Arnold, and the influence Dunbar must have had on them; Mia of “Fish Tank” seems to sing the social cord that Dunbar struck with “The Arbor.” Barnard’s experimental presentation of this overwhelming material is both formally and poignantly unique. She doesn’t push the boundaries of preconceived film forms but simply works outside of them, and even in a year that is thus far stacked with great releases, “The Arbor” should be recognized as one of the best.

Review by:
Kathie Smith