From its opening scenes in which Marianne Jean-Baptiste’s Pansy torments those who love her the most, Mike Leigh’s Hard Truths delivers immediately on the promise of its title. Leigh confronts his audience with hard-to-swallow facts-of-life that will force you to reconsider the sizzling hatred you may hold for that miserable neighbour next door or the permanently disgruntled colleague who sits at the desk next to yours. It’s a film built on the idea that hurt people hurt people, that those who appear to be filled with anger might just be filled with sadness. 

Marianne Jean-Baptiste plays Pansy, reunited with Leigh after her Oscar-nominated turn in 1996’s Secrets and Lies. After decades of solid work in supporting roles across film and television, it’s refreshing to see her take leading-lady status. She herself has said that she’d love to take more leading roles as interesting as this, but they simply don’t exist for an actor like her. She’s proven herself more than worthy on this occasion; she’s ferociously watchable as the character around which the film revolves, angry and bitter, but with just enough of a vulnerable glint in her eye to evoke pity. You can feel a lifetime of hardship emanating out of her with every breath.  

Pansy is a tricky protagonist to place at the centre of your film, but Leigh & Jean-Baptiste make it work. By all accounts, she’s unlikeable. She’s miserable, rude, and blisteringly angry, unable to complete even a transaction at the shops without upsetting everyone she encounters in the process. But Leigh forces us to reconcile with her head-on; he won’t let us look away. We all know a Pansy. Why is she like that? How do we deal with someone like that? It’s what Pansy’s family and friends ask themselves across the film’s runtime, and Jean-Baptise is surrounded by an excellent ensemble, particularly Michelle Austin, David Webber and Tuwaine Barrett. As Pansy’s son, Barrett in particular is the beating heart of the piece. It’s he who suffers the most from her actions, and his sad eyes will break your heart. Leigh will have you begging Pansy to stop, if only for the sake of her poor son. It’s he who has the most to lose from her actions.

The scenes of Baptiste on the rampage almost threaten to become repetitive - how many more times can we watch her scream at a customer service worker? - but it only serves to heighten just how exhausting things must be for her. It’s tiring just watching her; she must be in absolute bits. It’s a valuable reminder of something that we could all do better to remember; mental health isn’t pretty, there’s no such thing as the ‘perfect patient’, and the people who need help the most are sometimes the ones who are the most difficult to negotiate with.