Truckload
Writer: Evie Jones
Director: Aella Jordan-Edge
Cast: Evie Jones, Jodie Whittaker, Joe Dempsie, Cathy Tyson, Adam Ali, and Lara McDonnell
Cinematographer: Essi Hyrkki
Producers: Arpita Ashok, Victoria Emslie
“Piss easy, this,” Lizzie says to herself as she warily sizes up the four flights of stairs that stand between her and her new flat. She’s moving back to London after a year with her mum up north, and she’s ready to be on her own again. She’s meant to be on the fourth floor, and the elevator won’t come. She’ll have to walk up. But she survived an almost-deadly accident–she can do this. Walking stick in one hand and the bannister in the other, she sets off to face her first obstacle of living on her own in her new body.
This is the beginning of Truckload, a semi-autobiographical comedy-drama short film written by and starring Evie Jones that follows Lizzie, a 20-something finally moving back to London and out of the care of her mum Sarah (Jodie Whittaker) after a near-fatal traffic accident a year earlier. Directed by Aella Jordan-Edge, the film is the winner of Primetime’s inaugural Empower Fund, a contest for women and non-binary filmmakers which provided the winning project funding, in-kind support, and star power from Bournemouth Film School’s Funding Futures program, HAWK London and Grand Central, and actor Jodie Whittaker, respectively. The film made its world premiere at Tribeca Film Festival this June in the Mind & Body short film program where it was screened alongside five other works that explored mind, body, and the connection between the two. It makes its United Kingdom premiere tomorrow at the Edinburgh International Film Festival.
The film tackles the often over-generalized and insensitively-portrayed subject of disability with complexity, authenticity, and vibrance. It exudes heart, humor, and compassion. It was shot on digital, but doesn’t sacrifice the grit that marks Jordan-Edge’s other projects that were shot on film. There’s a groundedness, an intimacy to it. There’s a warmth, one that’s oftentimes literal thanks to cinematographer Essi Hyrkki in addition to the ever present feeling that’s due to Jordan-Edge’s direction. You feel brought in close to Lizzie.
That closeness is not accidental. Jordan-Edge understood the intimacy that the story required and executed it well. Part of that is thanks to the 4:3 aspect ratio, not one you’d usually expect to see in a film festival selection. When asked about this decision, Jordan-Edge told Read The Room that she and Hyrkki originally framed and shot it for widescreen. “But then when I went into the edit I just had this immediate instinct that we needed to cut it down.” That instinct proved correct. The result is an almost claustrophobic feel, a sense of restriction and limited scope that reflects the very things that Lizzie herself is fighting against.
Lizzie has an extreme desire to not be treated differently even though she has to quite literally walk through the world differently than she used to. She wants to return to normalcy so much that she wants to be back in her incredibly inaccessible apartment with roommates who don’t yet know her needs. She kicks her mum out directly after having a panic attack that only her mum knew how to get her out of. Because even though she loves her mother, Sarah’s support is a constant reminder of the year Lizzie just spent in recovery and the major life-changing event she experienced. She doesn’t let Sarah come into her doctor’s appointment with her under the assumption that she’s an adult and can advocate for herself, but then spends most of the appointment dissociating after being understandably triggered by the arrogance of the doctor (Joe Dempsie), whose rudedness serves as a succinct and potent representation of the feedback she’s received from the world around her as a plus-size disabled woman. Lizzie wants to speed up to normalcy regardless of what that looks like or how intangible and mutable “normalcy” is.
In addition to being a beautiful film in conversation with ableism and disability, Truckload is also a poignant look into a parent-child relationship. Whittaker and Jones fit into the mother-daughter dynamic comfortably and naturally. They play off of each other well, and it’s their relationship and its emotional complexity that drives the film, opening with a scene with the two of them and ending on just Sarah alone. Sarah is as often the source of comic relief as she is the emotional wringer. While Lizzie is facing her own mental demons and brings us into her daydreaming and trauma, it’s Sarah who brings us back into the now - literally, in the case of Lizzie’s panic attack, when she throws a pillow at her daughter and physically forces Lizzie’s mind to return to her body. Sarah brings the viewer back into a space where this film is just a story about a person and disability is just one facet of this person’s life. Even though Truckload tells one very specific story, its emotional truth makes it relatable to everyone.
Ultimately, where Truckload truly stands out is its approach to telling a story about disability. It’s a hopeful one which in and of itself is remarkable within disability representation. And though it has heightened, fantastical, day-dreamy moments, it leans into its own reality instead of shying away from it. That reality is one that’s impossible for Lizzie to avoid, and Truckload doesn’t pretend otherwise. But what it does differently is that it doesn’t center tragedy. This is not a story of despair. Despite nosy and rude comments from strangers and presumptuous doctors, Lizzie’s story is full of hope. Her life is full of color, joy, and confidence post-accident. She just has a walking stick now.
Read our in-depth interview with the creatives of Truckload here!
Words: Helena Emmanuel (she/they)
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