There are two distinct halves to J.D. Dillard’s fantastic thriller, Sweetheart.
There’s the front half, or, for all intents and purposes, the “daytime” half, in which Jennifer (Kiersey Clemons) washes ashore on a tropical island after a boating accident, alongside only one other member of her party, who is not long for this world. It’s a tale of survival at the outset; Jennifer scavenges for food, rifles through the belongings of those who were there before her, tries futilely to flag down planes flying overhead. It’s quiet, both because there’s nobody to talk to, and because Charles Scott IV’s score is nothing if not measured and methodical, allowing the lapping waves and the crushing silence of isolation to help tell this part of the story.
It’s a scary enough premise on its own having Jennifer unable to call for help, no clue where she is or how far removed from humanity she may be as she spends day after day surviving alone. But of course, the other half of the film reveals that she isn’t alone at all.
After the sun falls and nighttime descends upon the island, a grotesque creature emerges from the sea and scavenges for its own food, dragging whatever it can find into a hole deep in the bottom of the ocean. Early on, Jennifer finds the corpse of her friend stolen from the makeshift grave that she created, mutilated and fed upon, realizing that whatever is here is a merciless predator. During these scenes, in which Jennifer not only tries to avoid the creature, but also capture and kill it if possible, the intensity is ratcheted up exponentially, the score rising in urgency as the creature comes ever closer to discovering her.
What may be the strongest part of the film, however, is the small subplot linking these two halves. Two other members of the original party, Jennifer’s boyfriend Lucas and friend Mia (Emory Cohen and Hanna Mangan-Lawrence), wash up on the beach.
The reunion isn’t a happy one for long, however; they don’t believe any of Jennifer’s panicked warnings about the monster, citing a lack of proof and Jennifer’s apparently dubious history with the truth, and before long, she’s willing to steal their raft and leave without them.
It’s an immensely powerful allegory, that even in the face of a man-eating creature, Jennifer still has to deal with people (two upper class white people, no less, outnumbering her as the only person of color) who don’t believe what she says is happening, people who demand receipts and hard evidence. The title of the film comes from Lucas’ patronization during these scenes, a testament to Cohen’s abilities; the way he condescendingly sneers “sweetheart” as if it were her birth name while explaining just how crazy she must have gone before they came to her rescue.
Clemons’ performance, working with a script written by Dillard, Alex Hyner, and Alex Theurer, is brilliant, as Jennifer is as clever during the night as she is during the day. That is, she’s smart enough to fend for herself against both the elements and the monster itself, yet never being reduced to an overpowered Mary Sue. She outright refuses to play the victim, fighting back at every single turn, the Ripley to this creature’s xenomorph, a fierce and admirable protagonist that proves to be so much more than simply someone’s sweetheart.
