Anne at 13,000 Ft.‘s Plummeting Breakdown Might Rob You of Breath

Twentysomething Anne (Deragh Campbell), the protagonist of Kazik Radwanski’s Anne at 13,000 Ft., a film that’s one part fleeting and two parts restive, challenges herself by skydiving in the opening sequence, intercut with images of her working with kiddos at a daycare center. She makes the jump successfully, opens her parachute successfully and lands on her feet successfully, but spends the next hour and change in continual freefall. This is not a movie about a young woman pushing her boundaries. This is a movie about a young woman who, having won a rigged staring contest with Death, goes on living her life in anticipation of round two.
Nothing goes well for Anne, perhaps because there’s something wrong with her. She’s sweet, sure, charming, fun, apparently full of energy and vigor. She’s a remarkable actress, too, not in the context of a stage but the context of social masking: Anne clearly struggles with deep-rooted behavioral health troubles that she’s discomfitingly adept at covering up. Sometimes these quirks manifest as harmless, as in that opening sequence, when she lets one of the boys under her charge splash in a public pool while wearing his clothes; at others, they manifest as grating, and at others still, reckless. Anne has far less facility for disguising the latter two as innocent. The chances that her coworker, Suzanne (Suzanne Pratley), will take it as good humor when Anne throws an empty coffee cup at her head are low.
Suzanne and others, notably Anne’s mother, Barb (Lawrene Denkers), her best friend, Sarah (Dorothea Paas), and her eventual boyfriend Matt (Matt Johnson), all try to get her to open up about what’s eating her, though none manage to squeeze one vulnerable word out of her. It would help if they had more empathy and less exasperation with her, though Anne at 13,000 Ft. takes great pains to convey their collective besetment without making them all look like assholes. Even Suzanne, a real stickler for rules, has a reason for being on Anne’s case. Radwanski empathizes with the frustration felt by each of these characters, but maintains more empathy for Anne as the frustrating party, too. Nothing sucks quite like being the one who, inevitably and over time, will drive everyone in your orbit batty just by being yourself.