Cherry is an important film for the moment we live in, but you wouldn't know that from watching it. If that seems like a contradiction in terms, that's because Cherry is a bit of an anomaly right now: an urgent film about abortion rights that's as aimless and laissez-faire as a beach-side conversation; a striking character study of generational ennui and aimlessness centering on a character who can't stay still long enough to be a protagonist in anyone's film; a slice-of-life, realist day-in-the-life film about a character camouflaged behind the subterfuge of balloons, roller skates, heart-shapes, and silly costumes.
Alex Trewhitt is Cherry
Manny Films
Cherry stars Alex Trewhitt; actually, Cherry is Trewhitt, who embodies the titular character as if this was a documentary without rhyme or reason. This minimalist character study follows the 20-something as she spends a day considering whether to get an abortion or not. Cherry isn't a particularly interesting or likable character, but she's not exactly unlikable either; she's funny, quick on her feet, kind 'in the moment,' and beautiful, but she's also a flighty procrastinator and pretty selfish, a woman (in age only) with zero life skills who always seems to be momentarily dropping in before taking off on a trip to God knows where. This is precisely why Cherry is perfect as the eponymous character of Sophie Galibert's film: she's the sample size, and she's the demographic. She's everyone.
Cherry is an endearingly laid-back film, almost reminiscent of those great mumblecore movies of the mid-aughts; Trewhitt begins the film with a pregnancy test and spends the next hour and fifteen minutes of Cherry's brief runtime considering the consequences. She loses a job, gains a job, talks to a doctor and her boyfriend, tries to talk to her family, eats fruit cups with her father, and skates in between everyone in her life, questioning the future in a confused and curious way.
Alex Trewhitt plays Cherry like she is Cherry, but speaking with her makes it clear how much more passion and drive Trewhitt has, even if the difficult work seems to come somewhat easy to her. "I'm a classically trained ballerina," the actor says, acknowledging something that's notoriously difficult with a shrug, "and when I was 15, I had a career ending ankle injury. Which is crazy for a 15-year-old, but I had a couple surgeries that just didn't heal up quite right. But acting kind of seems like it's still performing, if not in a bigger way. And I've always loved movies, always love telling stories. I wrote plays as a kid and so it was like a pretty easy transition."
Rollerskating Through Generational Angst in Cherry
Manny Films
Interestingly, this ballerina-with-a-broken-ankle plays a woman whose preferred means of transportation is roller-skating in Cherry. Some of the dreamiest shots in the film follow Cherry as she glides through California, circles a skating rink, and slides smoothly across sidewalks, the skates being a primary metaphor for the inherent restlessness and endless drift Cherry finds herself in. She wanders from job to job, boyfriend to family, careening like a Californian archetype throughout life. Trewhitt did it wonderfully though — and it was her first time.
"I had never skated before, so I was kind of unsure of how that was going to go," Trewhitt says, acknowledging that she did have a few "monster falls" along the way. "But it was fine, and it was really fun. It was nice to have something physical to work on because I think that, obviously acting itself is really rewarding, but having like a physical aspect of a skill that I was working on was really nice and almost felt whole." While Ballerina on Roller Skates sounds like a Marcel Duchamp painting, it's nonetheless clear that the physically intuitive Trewhitt tapped into the character even better thanks to that bodily aspect.
The skating actually extended beyond Trewhitt (who took six weeks of lessons with the brilliant L.A. Roller Girls before shooting), with members of the crew doing the same. Picture the main actor of a film on roller skates being pursued by a very good cinematographer on skates himself, and you might have a good idea of the production of Cherry, a tightly choreographed but inventive and lively set. As Trewhitt says, "I hope that we have some good behind the scenes of this because it's honestly incredible. So most of the time when I am on skates, Damien, our DP, is also on skates going backwards. Like, it's insane."
Director Galibert and cinematographer Damien Steck formed what Galibert called "the circle of trust" with Trewhitt, the idea being that they would just stick with her throughout the shoot, following her closely for long periods on end with a mutual sense of trust between the artists. Most of these shots would have to be meticulously choreographed; imagine Martha Graham developing a routine on roller skates, at the same time as a global pandemic and massive regional wildfires were taking place. "We would have 15 to 20 minute takes, it's wild. So everything was very important in terms of, like, I had to know exactly where Damien was at all times [...] I told Sophie this is the hardest job I will ever do. And I hope I go on to do like crazy wire work."
Trewhitt on Cherry and Abortion Rights
Rollerskating aside, Cherry comes at a particular moment in the American sociopolitical landscape in which abortion rights are being questioned and, in some places, dismantled. The Supreme Court is considering overthrowing the law of the land when it comes to a woman's right to choose, Roe v. Wade, and Casey v. Planned Parenthood might be next. After half a century of safer abortions and the ability to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, 26 states in this country are certain or likely to ban abortion soon.
In its own quiet way, Cherry presents a surprisingly non-partisan defense of abortion rights. Cherry is in no way, shape, or form ready to be a mother, but in an America without Roe v. Wade, Mother's Day might be mandatory. Even conservatives and pro-lifers who watch Cherry are likely to agree that the titular character is not ready for the darker sides of motherhood, something which is absolutely Cherry's decision but one she comes to after many conversations and self-inquiries. Trewhitt locates the politics in this film about a character's quiet existential crisis:
I hope that it at least opens up a conversation, because I hope that we always have a right to choose. I am lucky to be in California where, you know, it's likely that that will almost always be the case. But I hope that at least maybe people who are on the other side of it maybe give it a second thought, and kind of see her for who she is. Because I think that we do a great job of not villainizing her for this, and you see her as a whole complete person, and that she is not ready to have a baby or wants to have a baby, and I think that it would be really unfair. I hope that you can see that it seems unfair to have to make her not have that choice.
Cherry is a fictional film, but Cherry might as well be a real person. As Trewhitt says, "I think most young women for sure, and even young men, can relate to at least some aspects of her, because she is real, and she is messy, and she is just full of contradictions and like a normal person, which is kind of what we were wanting. Sophie said that she wasn't going for perfection. She was just going for honesty, and she wanted it to feel real, and I think that it is. I know for me that 100% I have been this girl at different phases of my life. And that's I hope what people see when they watch it, especially given the political climate right now. It's like, anyone can be Cherry."
Anyone can be Cherry, because Cherry is all of us to some extent. The human condition is messy, confused, and often overflowing with mistakes, and politically speaking, there needs to be a choice to move on from past mistakes. Cherry is premiering at Tribeca June 11th at 6pm EST and is available to stream online as part of their Online Premieres for Tribeca At Home.