Justin Chang

By contrast, how does Poppy, the upbeat heroine of Lee's 2008 comedy, Happy Go Lucky, manage to greet every misfortune with a smile? Lee's new movie, Hard Truths, could have been titled Unhappy Go Lucky. It follows a middle-aged North London misanthrope named Pansy, who's played in the single greatest performance I've seen this year by Marianne Jean-Baptiste.

You might know Jean-Baptiste from Lee's wonderful 1996 film, Secrets and Lies, in which she played a shy, unassuming London optometrist seeking out her birth mother. But there's nothing unassuming about Pansy, who leads a life of seething, unrelenting misery. She spends most of her time indoors, barking orders and insults at her solemn husband, Kirtley, and their unemployed 22-year-old son, Moses.

You might know Jean-Baptiste from Lee's wonderful 1996 film, Secrets and Lies, in which she played a shy, unassuming London optometrist seeking out her birth mother. But there's nothing unassuming about Pansy, who leads a life of seething, unrelenting misery. She spends most of her time indoors, barking orders and insults at her solemn husband, Kirtley, and their unemployed 22-year-old son, Moses.

You might know Jean-Baptiste from Lee's wonderful 1996 film, Secrets and Lies, in which she played a shy, unassuming London optometrist seeking out her birth mother. But there's nothing unassuming about Pansy, who leads a life of seething, unrelenting misery. She spends most of her time indoors, barking orders and insults at her solemn husband, Kirtley, and their unemployed 22-year-old son, Moses.

Pansy keeps a spotless home, but the blank walls and sparse furnishings are noticeably devoid of warmth, cheer, or personality. When she isn't cleaning, she's trying to catch up on sleep, complaining about aches, pains, and exhaustion. Sometimes she goes out to shop or run errands, only to wind up picking fights with the people she meets. A dentist, a salesperson, a stranger in a parking lot.

Pansy keeps a spotless home, but the blank walls and sparse furnishings are noticeably devoid of warmth, cheer, or personality. When she isn't cleaning, she's trying to catch up on sleep, complaining about aches, pains, and exhaustion. Sometimes she goes out to shop or run errands, only to wind up picking fights with the people she meets. A dentist, a salesperson, a stranger in a parking lot.

Pansy keeps a spotless home, but the blank walls and sparse furnishings are noticeably devoid of warmth, cheer, or personality. When she isn't cleaning, she's trying to catch up on sleep, complaining about aches, pains, and exhaustion. Sometimes she goes out to shop or run errands, only to wind up picking fights with the people she meets. A dentist, a salesperson, a stranger in a parking lot.

Back at home, she unloads on Kirtley and Moses about all the indignities she's been subjected to and the general idiocy of the world around her.

Back at home, she unloads on Kirtley and Moses about all the indignities she's been subjected to and the general idiocy of the world around her.

Back at home, she unloads on Kirtley and Moses about all the indignities she's been subjected to and the general idiocy of the world around her.

As you can hear from that virtuoso rant, Pansy has an insult comedian's ferocious wit and killer timing. While you wouldn't necessarily want to bump into her on the street, she makes for mesmerizing, even captivating on-screen company. Lee is often described as a Dickensian filmmaker, and for good reason. He's a committed realist with a gift for comic exaggeration.

As you can hear from that virtuoso rant, Pansy has an insult comedian's ferocious wit and killer timing. While you wouldn't necessarily want to bump into her on the street, she makes for mesmerizing, even captivating on-screen company. Lee is often described as a Dickensian filmmaker, and for good reason. He's a committed realist with a gift for comic exaggeration.

As you can hear from that virtuoso rant, Pansy has an insult comedian's ferocious wit and killer timing. While you wouldn't necessarily want to bump into her on the street, she makes for mesmerizing, even captivating on-screen company. Lee is often described as a Dickensian filmmaker, and for good reason. He's a committed realist with a gift for comic exaggeration.

Like nearly all Lee's films, hard truths emerge from a rigorous, months-long workshop process, in which the director worked closely with his actors to create their characters from scratch. As a result, Jean-Baptiste's performance, electrifying as it is, is also steeped in emotional complexity.

Like nearly all Lee's films, hard truths emerge from a rigorous, months-long workshop process, in which the director worked closely with his actors to create their characters from scratch. As a result, Jean-Baptiste's performance, electrifying as it is, is also steeped in emotional complexity.

Like nearly all Lee's films, hard truths emerge from a rigorous, months-long workshop process, in which the director worked closely with his actors to create their characters from scratch. As a result, Jean-Baptiste's performance, electrifying as it is, is also steeped in emotional complexity.

The more time we spend with Pansy, the more we see that her rage against the world arises from deep loneliness and pain. Lee has little use for plot. He builds his stories from the details and detritus of everyday life, drifting from one character to the next.

The more time we spend with Pansy, the more we see that her rage against the world arises from deep loneliness and pain. Lee has little use for plot. He builds his stories from the details and detritus of everyday life, drifting from one character to the next.

The more time we spend with Pansy, the more we see that her rage against the world arises from deep loneliness and pain. Lee has little use for plot. He builds his stories from the details and detritus of everyday life, drifting from one character to the next.

Tawain Barrett is quietly heartbreaking as Pansy's son, Moses, who isolates himself and spends his time either playing video games or going on long neighborhood walks. Pansy's husband, Kirtley, is harder to parse. He's played by the terrific David Weber, with a passivity that's both sympathetic and infuriating.