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Friday, September 6, 2024
Continue (2024)
Movie
Name/Year: Continue
(2024) Genre: Drama Length: 1h 52min Rating: R Director: Nadine Crocker Writer: Nadine Crocker Actors: Nadine Crocker, Shiloh
Fernandez, Emily Deschanel, Lio Tipton, Kat Foster, Annapurna Sriram
Blurb: Writer-director-star Nadine
Crocker’s tour-de-force of confessional filmmaking dissects mental health
struggles with the raw authenticity of a true survivor. Convinced she’s fated
to walk the same troubled path as her father, Dean (Crocker) suffers a major
mental health episode and is committed to a rehabilitation facility. Once
confined, Dean shudders through the agonies of recovery, and bravely comes out
the other side armed with a defense against the darkness, summed up in one
word: Continue.
Cat’s
Point of View: Watching Continue
was a profound experience. I have been
battling my way back from my second run with Covid.
It's been slow going, but I'm steadily on the uptick. I wasn't sure I would
make it through the full-length of a 2-hour movie, much less remain
riveted to the screen the way I was. There was no
snoozing here, just some significant tears and subsequent
nose-blowing. This single-genre drama kept my attention from beginning to end.
It was a heart-wrenching rollercoaster that I identified with on a painfully
deep level. First, let me
stress that while Continue focused on a girl who attempted to take her
own life, this movie did not glorify the act in any way, shape, or form. That
is always a concern with projects coming out of Hollywood that touch on this
sort of subject matter. You don't want it to show that everything is shiny or
that there isn't a high price to pay for everyone involved – from the family
and friends of someone who has died in that manner to even people who only
briefly have touched their lives. It's a ripple effect of pain. Continue handled the topic in a way that set it above Girl, Interrupted (1999), which tackled a
similar story in its day. I'm not knocking the older film, but I am saying that
it was clear that Continue came from a more genuine and raw place – and
out of hope that it might make a difference.
Nadine Crocker (The
Amityville Haunting, Cabin Fever, Desperation Road) might not be a
household name today, but she could be. I felt every emotion along with her, and
my heart broke for the story Continue told. It was gritty and pulled no
punches, and Crocker was the perfect casting to bring it to the screen– because
it was her story. She lived it and now wants to pay the help she received
forward through this film and her Continue On Foundation. The fact that the
“i” in the title on the posters is shown as a semicolon is no accident. Some who have made an attempt on their own lives but survived sometimes get a tattoo of that specific punctuation mark. It represents the continuation of a
sentence that would have otherwise ended, making it an excellent symbol for
surviving the darkness and moving beyond it. I've struggled
with depression most of my life. It is, indeed, genetic. It hurts in every cell
of my being that it was something I passed along to my daughter. I never wanted
to remove myself from the planet, but I can understand that deep level of
despair. I am thankful that I was given tools to work through day-to-day
because of therapy and my support system. I can't stress
enough that someone is always available to talk through that darkness. If you don't feel like you know anyone you can reach out to personally, you can dial a hotline (such as 988). Mental health is
absolutely part of overall health, just as much as getting your eyes checked or an annual physical. It's time we break down the stigmas
that surround these issues. Continue will be in Theaters, On Digital, and On Demand
September 6, 2024.
Selina’s
Point of View: Continue was an extremely difficult watch for me. I
knew it was going to be about suicide, and I figured it would have a kind of Girl
Interrupted (1999) feel to it. I braced myself, but I had no idea what I
was in for. Continue was incredible. It’s tied to a mental health movement
through the Continue On Organization, an organization devoted to making mental health care more accessible. Mental health services can be the difference between life and death for someone who is truly struggling. Whether it’s found in the form of a place they can stay and be monitored or therapy sessions once a week, it doesn’t matter. There is help for everyone somewhere.
Making it affordable and accessible is extremely important. I positioned Cat’s review of Continue first for a reason. Hers is a review of the film, and we are, at heart, a review site. Since I wholeheartedly agree with her review, I will let that stand and instead share my story. When I was younger, I had a lot of self-destructive tendencies. I’ve
referenced them in previous reviews and likely will again. I was
a teen who was angry at the world, and I had to go through years of therapy to
help me mature into the adult I became. The story I go into here is not that. I’m
going to offer my perspective of a time much more recent. Although my marriage was good in the beginning, it spiraled out of
control over time. We didn’t communicate well and were rarely on the same page.
When we lived in Brooklyn, it was easier for me to handle because I was
surrounded by my support base. It wasn’t a huge group but enough to
offer respite when things got bad. The plan was always to move to Long Island. It might not sound
like a far distance, but it was two to three hours away during the daytime, and
I was just learning how to drive after I had my daughter. I wasn’t comfortable
on the highways yet, and none of my loved ones drove. My delivery was rough, and the months after were more so. People
from his family opted to not respect our wishes to get acclimated to our new
family dynamic alone and even once suggested that he just ‘throw a blanket over
me’ while I was recovering so they could come to see the baby. Like I was a piece
of furniture. Eventually, I learned that even though I was at my weakest point, I would have to fake being all right. It seemed that no one was going to
have my back. So, I put on a fake smile that wound up being less than temporary
as I was forced to compromise more and more of what I needed because of what
he and his family wanted. As time passed, we moved to a bigger, more comfortable house. We
were closer to his support group, but things only got worse. Away from my
people, there was no break from the worst of it, and I grew increasingly
isolated. Covid hit soon after, and we were trapped. That was when I started
therapy. We fought more constantly, to the point where I would go to hide in my office, and he would chase after me, screaming through the door. I rarely wanted to leave that room unless it was to be with my daughter. That’s how it stayed—for years. We’d visit Brooklyn, or my best friend would come visit us. But
the smile on my face was only real during that time. It always faltered once I
was alone again. One night, without going too deep into detail, we fought so badly that he came after me in anger in front of our daughter. After that, we
stopped sleeping in the same room. I made him go to anger management. I felt thoroughly trapped. I had nowhere to go, and my self-esteem
had been destroyed over the years of isolation. I didn’t think anyone cared.
That no one would be there for me even if I did go. I resigned myself to what my life had become. I’d spent so long
slicing off pieces of who I was to try and accommodate him and his family that
I barely remembered myself anymore. I figured I would stay until my daughter
was old enough to be on her own, and then whatever happened would happen. I did
not believe I would survive past that. I didn’t think I wanted to. My therapist and I would meet once a week. I’d tell her how low I was getting each time and what had happened that week. My disappointment. Our miscommunications.
The anger growing. I was seeing the old me, but not the one that had healed
from the past. The version of me that had self-destructed when I was younger.
That believed she wasn’t worth anything. She kept me from sinking all the way to the bottom. To a place I
wouldn’t have come back from. She helped me remain hopeful and try to find what
I wanted. Divorce began to tease at the edges of my mind.
One day, my friend Mike called to ask me if I thought he should move in with Rich, someone from our past. I hadn’t heard Rich’s name in a long time and was confused at first. We’d dated back in the day, and I remembered semi-living with him for a short time then. I advised Mike to do it; I knew he would be a good roommate. Move-in day came, and we all worked to get Mike packed up. I drove
Rich back to the apartment, and we got to talk. He was going through a divorce after about a decade, and I asked
him the most important question on my mind: “Are you happy?” He told me he was, and we discussed what was happening while I
parked. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, telling me he would have
given me somewhere to go. I told him that I thought he wouldn’t answer. “I don’t care how long it’s been,” he said, “If you need
something, you call me, and I will help. We’ve known each other for how long? I’ll
always be there for you.” I burst into tears. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t
out of misery. It was because I realized I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
That the space and the time and the people I’d been surrounded with that had
convinced me no one would be there for me… they were all wrong. I had people.
People who cared. I started going to Brooklyn on the weekends not long after that. I
rediscovered my support system and asked for a divorce of my own. Not once after that conversation did I have a second thought about
moving on. Without my therapist keeping me from taking that last step down a dark road and losing myself in despair, I wouldn’t have had the strength to process any of it. I’d still be locked in my office, pretending I don’t exist
and waiting for a day when I could just… go. Instead, I’m moving into a new
apartment, surrounded by friends – new and old. I’m dating Rich and learning to
live this brand-new, happier life. My daughter is coming back to Brooklyn with
me, and she’s meeting a whole new version of me. A happy version that she’d
never known before. The version of me she deserves. There is a depth of depression when you’re in the wrong place. You
know it every day. You feel it every day. You don’t belong, and you can’t imagine
finding that place where you do. You watch movies, read books, go to weddings
and parties where you watch people consistently find that place for themselves
and wind up wondering why you’re defective. It makes you feel even more alone, like a puzzle piece that slipped inside the wrong box. It’s easy to give up. If you stick it out, though, one day, things can change. Suddenly, you’re in a new place where all the pieces fit just right and build a picture
of happiness that feels so very good. No one just snaps out of it alone, though. You need a support base
and, especially if you’re isolated, sometimes the best start is a professional.
Having access to that professional is extremely important. If you have your own rock-bottom story that you’ve come back from,
putting money or effort toward something like the Continue On Organization
could pay it forward to the next person scrambling out of their hole. If you are at the deepest point of your darkness now, know that
there are people who want to help you. It gets better.
Trust
the Dice: Selina’s Rating – 5/5 Trust
the Dice: Cat’s Rating – 5/5 P.S. The US suicide helpline: 988. The UK suicide helpline: 0800 689 5652. China psychological assistance:
024-23813000 Movie
Trailer:
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