East of Wall
(USA, 97 min.)
Dir Kate Beecroft
Programme: NEXT (World premiere)
The question of what constitutes a “hybrid” film is often one of semantics. It’s a debate among people who are either restrictive in what they consider fictional, and others who wish to expand upon the acute understanding that even the most journalistically conventional of documentary films employs, to various extents, the craft of filmmaking to direct its story. Yet even at its most generous reading, it’s a challenge on first blush to treat Kate Beecroft’s East of Wall as part of the documentary camp. Its sweeping grandeur, its scenes of character development, and its dramatically delivered dialogue, among other trappings, make it feel like a traditional American indie with a Western flair from its first shot.
Yet diving deeper, one can tease out the crafting of the story to make a case for its non-fictional credentials. But for those far less invested in applying labels or deciding upon genre categorization, the precise nature of its telling, the incorporation of TikTok videos and other “real” elements, as well as the casting of an ensemble of non-traditional actors, allows East of Wall to fit comfortably within the broad expanse of “docufiction.” It’s up to a given viewer whether a film like this, or even something like the Oscar winning Nomadland, can suitably or even comfortably rest within the general rubric of what gets associated with documentary filmmaking.
Beecroft’s film centers around Tabatha and Porshia Zimiga, a mother/daughter combo who train horses and bring them to auction. With their hair shaved on the sides described as a “battle ready” formation, we see them accomplish many impressive acrobatic acts atop their steeds, or competing in various rodeo events demonstrating equine skills.
In the world of the film, they’re living in a ranch where Porshia’s father, John, has passed away. The relationship between the mother and daughter is fraught, and much of the drama is reflected in their strained relationship. Financial strains are palpable, especially as Tabatha’s ranch (inherited from John) has become home to a half dozen other kids from the community, a kind of flock of young people whose own family situations are unsustainable, finding a safe space under the care of Tabatha and her partner.
When a rich man comes to town looking to heal some of his own emotional wounds, the opportunity for the ranch to find financial security comes at the potential cost of losing the sense of freedom and lack of oversight that Tabatha’s character exemplifies. Scoot McNairy, the Dallas native and veteran actor from Oscar winners like 12 Years a Slave and his most recent turns in Nightbitch and A Complete Unknown, provides Beecroft’s a dose of “traditional” acting that helps craft the film’s dialogue, as does veteran stage and screen star Jennifer Ehle with a more nuanced take on what’s traditionally a thankless role.
Yet it’s Tabatha’s story, and those on her ranch, that fuels the film’s sense of realism. The dexterity in which the horses are handled is the first indication that these are not simply performers living within the context of this milieu. The stilted line deliveries during the more formally cinematic elements are superseded when these individuals are seen behaving within their regular environment.
In interviews, Beecroft has spoken of a multi-year journey through the Dakotas and Nebraska to find her story. Encouraged to track down Tabatha, she found the center for her film. While the tragedy of the sudden death of Tabatha’s former husband lingers throughout the film as a kind of unsettled, ghostly presence, it’s this real life pain and mourning that generates the film’s poignancy.
Much of the story developed directly from Tabatha and her family’s own struggles, and it’s this sense of realism that many will find to be the most transfixing element of the film. The need to question what’s real versus made up is quickly abandoned in favour of simply reveling in the texture of the place, the remarkable faces of those at the rodeo or the bar, and sense of place and space that provides throughout a kind of unvarnished glimpse into this otherwise overlooked region.
So while the general narrative is a bit clunky, and the narrative around the temptation to give up freedoms in favour of economic stability is more than a bit cliché, the surrounding elements and small glimpses into the life of Tabatha and her brood gives the film its compelling character. For those that wish to see sweeping plains and rodeo prowess, they’ll find much to admire about East of Wall. One is encouraged to lean into the truth of the situation, or at least the finely honed sense of verisimilitude that both performer and location provides. The film grants audiences a strong sense of witnessing something both unique and fascinating, and eschewing the need for formal genre division, allows one to instead simply strap on a virtual saddle and go along for the ride into Tabatha’s world.