Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Monica’ on Hulu, a Stirring, Understated Drama Anchored by an Extraordinary Trace Lysette Performance

Monica (now streaming on Hulu) is an obvious candidate for 2023’s most overlooked movie. Directed by Andrea Pallaoro, it’s an at-times uncomfortably quiet character study that, in a just world, would have a lot more eyes on it and establish Trace Lysette as a go-to dramatic lead. Lysette’s most high-profile roles include a small part in Hustlers and a recurring role in Transparent; here, she plays a trans woman reuniting with her long-estranged family to help care for her dying mother, played by Patricia Clarkson. Simply put, it’s a powerful, thoughtful drama. 

MONICA: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Monica (Lysette) is heartbroken, but not for the first time. She calls her ex, gets voicemail, leaves a too painfully desperate plea to talk, deletes it, and records a different one. It’s the first of many similarly one-sided conversations she’ll have with his voicemail. We sense her isolation in her day-to-day – she’s a masseuse with an aging red convertible, and she rarely interacts with anyone else. She gets a call from her sister-in-law Laura (Emily Browning), then takes a cross-country road trip to see her mother Eugenia (Clarkson), who has a malignant brain tumor. Monica stops at a roadside motel; she washes up, gives herself an injection in her thigh and looks contemplative. Trepidatious. A little nervous. 

Monica’s never met Laura, who’s a sweetheart. “I’ve been wondering what you’d be like for such a long time,” she says, upbeat, and if there’s any question of trust, she immediately puts that at ease by handing the baby to Aunt Monica to hold. Laura’s husband and Monica’s brother, Paul (Joshua Close), isn’t here, so it’ll be the two of them and the three kids going to visit Grandma today, at the house where Monica grew up. Eugenia’s condition is such that she’s easily confused. She doesn’t recognize Monica, at least not yet, but will she eventually? That’s the question, but will we ever have an answer? For now, Laura assures Eugenia that Monica will stay in the house for a while and is here to help out, and no, she’s not from hospice. Eugenia doesn’t want those people around. She also doesn’t like to take her pills, which Laura warns Monica before packing up the kids and heading out.

From here, we get a number of vignette-like scenes: Monica fails in her attempt to get Eugenia to take her medication. Monica finds an old box of jewelry and tries some of it on. Monica interacts pleasantly with Eugenia’s part-time caretaker Leticia (Adriana Barraza, making the absolute most of limited screen time). Monica sets up her webcam for a sexy striptease that’s interrupted by Eugenia crying out – crying out for her mother. Monica comforts her. Monica finally reunites with Paul, and there’s no hugging or platitudes, just an air of awkwardness tinged with, what is that, enmity? Judgment? Whatever it is, the silent tension is painful. It’ll take a while before either shares anything meaningful with each other, for Monica to talk about the time Eugenia said she couldn’t be her mother anymore.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Monica has a meditative and immersive point of view that made me think of Moonlight, crossed with the gritty, handheld aesthetic of extraordinary indie films like The Florida Project or Half Nelson. 

Performance Worth Watching: Lysette’s work here is deeply moving, and brilliant in how she projects vulnerability in a largely nonverbal performance. 

Memorable Dialogue: The plaintive simplicity of this line by Monica is devastating: “I have so many things I want to tell you.”

Sex and Skin: Some nudity and a fairly graphic sex scene.

Our Take: Monica is a classic case of silence being louder than words. There’s very little specificity in the dialogue, but when there is, it’s potent. Characters, especially Monica and Paul, either don’t know what to say to each other or don’t want to open the can of worms because it’s too painful. The unreturned calls from Monica’s ex speaks to her loneliness and desperation, and we can’t help but assume the psychological damage of her childhood – that very same damage she’s quietly confronting now – plays a part in her broken relationships. 

There are scenes deep in the film between Clarkson and Lysette where very little is spoken, but we stare at Clarkson in search of a glimmer of recognition; either way, Monica is kind and helpful, and has earned Eugenia’s trust and affection. The inability for anyone to understand Eugenia’s ability to effectively communicate or comprehend the world around her is a plot device allowing Pallaoro – who co-scripted with Orlando Tirado – to maintain a quietly provocative vagueness, to render uncertainty a character dictating the drama. The dialogue-free moments when Monica delicately bathes Eugenia or gives her a soothing back massage speak volumes. They’re acts of healing.

Such emphasis on the unspoken makes Monica a welcome reprieve from the type of standard-issue dramas that might bake in showy confrontations and cathartic exhalations. Pallaoro adheres to a basic rule of cinema by showing instead of telling, and poignantly underplays the big moments. He draws a thoughtful, considered and naturalistic performance from Lysette, creating a subtextual narrative about isolation and uncertainty that’s at once universally relatable and specifically about the trans experience in America (the subtle, but bold final sequence underscores the latter). There’s love and pain in this story, and no clear conflict, resolution or closure. That’s what makes it feel so very much like life.

Our Call: Monica is smartly rendered, deeply moving drama. Don’t overlook it. STREAM IT. 

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.