In a year so dominated by collective illness, loss, and pain, focusing on the tragedy of a single family for two hours can feel remarkably refreshing. Shannon Murphy’s debut feature Babyteeth is an intimate portrait of 16-year-old Milla (Eliza Scanlan) and the people in her inner circle as she moves through the most difficult phase of her life. Positioned on that precarious threshold between childhood and adulthood, youth and maturity, the experience is all the more intense due to her deteriorating health. Babyteeth can be described as a cancer drama, or a coming of age film but these surface categories fail to capture the full range of the film. In moving deeper, Murphy has created a rich and beautiful piece of cinema in which standout performances by the ensemble cast are underlined by Andrew Commis’ stunning cinematography as well as the unusual but always fitting soundtrack which includes original compositions by Amanda Brown.

The audience meets Milla just when she meets Moses (Toby Wallace): after school, dressed primly in her uniform, blonde hair tied back, Milla waits for her train. On the platform, she stands apart from the group of classmates who chat idly in the background. The camera stays close to her face, showing large green eyes filled with nervous anticipation as Milla breathes in and out to calm herself. What exactly she is contemplating at that moment is something the audience can only guess at, but the film’s opening positions her directly on a precipice, hovering and unsure of where to go next. Moses bursts into that scene as he bumps into her from behind, running full tilt towards the incoming train and stopping in the nick of time, perhaps embodying Milla’s own desire to plunge headlong into danger, if only to make her feel more alive.

Babyteeth

Courtesy of: Picturehouse Entertainment

Instead of joining her peers on the train, Milla can’t seem to move. The doors close and she remains on the now-empty platform, tethered to the spot until Moses addresses her from behind, complimenting her on the colour of her hair. Hair, of course, is a weighty signifier in any cancer story, and Milla’s is long and golden. Moses, on the other hand, sports a shaggy, home-made haircut, short on the sides and long in the back. Ominously, blood running from Milla’s nose breaks their idle conversation about hairstyles – the first sign of the illness which is about to dominate Milla’s life – and Moses jumps at the chance to help, using his shirt to soak up the blood as he settles her on the ground and in his lap. 

From the redness around his eyes to the facial tattoos and his impulsive, fidgety movements, Wallace embodies the twitchy drug addict with perfect sincerity, keeping the balance between an inherent sweetness in Moses and the irresponsible, often illegal actions fuelled by his addiction, such as the casual plea for money which quickly follows the compliment. He has been kicked out of his home and needs cash to find a place to stay overnight (or so he claims), and Milla, good-natured and gullible, offers him $50. This, however, is tied to a condition: she’ll give him the money, but only if Moses gives her a haircut in return. Their initial interaction sets the tone for the relationship that follows. More than teenage infatuation, there is always something conditional underlying the tentative romance. Milla needs Moses, but Moses needs Milla just as much, and as the film and their friendship progress, the pattern becomes more and more obvious: Moses helps Milla regain agency over her life, beginning with the cutting of her hair before she loses it to chemo; Moses, meanwhile, finds purpose in staying by Milla’s side at a time where his own life is marked by a lack of stability or responsibility. 

Babyteeth

Courtesy of: Picturehouse Entertainment

It’s a tribute to Rita Kalnejais’ finely tuned script as well as the empathetic performances of the ensemble cast that all her characters appear fully three-dimensional on-screen. Never judged for their actions in her writing, no one is allowed to slip into tropes or stereotypes. The people populating Babyteeth are all struggling with the situation in their own ways, each one of them flawed and flailing. While Milla herself often seems the most put together of the group, her psychiatrist father Henry (Ben Mendelsohn) insists on keeping his wife Anna (Essie Davis) so medicated that her drugged out state of mind at dinner even surpasses Moses’ as she crunches down on ice cubes to the point of cutting the skin inside her mouth. Later, when she decides to go off the drugs so she won’t miss any part of her daughter’s fragile life, Henry tells her off for it: ‘You cannot, cannot, cannot lose it yet,’ he insists, even as he himself misguidedly seeks solace in the company of their pregnant neighbour Toby (Emily Barclay) and later turns to self-medication. There is no doubt that he should not be practicing – and should certainly not be treating his wife – but despite his shortcomings, Henry is never defined by them. 

Originally written for the theatre, Babyteeth bursts free from the limitations of a stage play, offering the viewer an involving cinematography with a rich and vibrant colour palette that reflects Milla’s teenage world as it grows more and more electric after Moses’ arrival. One night, Milla sneaks off to meet him, sporting a platinum blond wig and applying stolen lipstick before they dive into the neon-lit scene of a party, creating some of the film’s most impressive visuals. Establishing shots often take in the surroundings, showing larger parts of the characters’ worlds. These often appear as backdrops for the title cards Murphy uses to divide her film into chapters;  ranging from ‘When Milla Met Moses on Platform 4’ over ‘Fuck This’ to ‘A Beautiful Morning’ they also serve as a commentary on the action to follow. 

Babyteeth

Courtesy of: Picturehouse Entertainment

Commis’ camera frequently moves as if it were simply another character – an effect which is highlighted by the conspiratorial glances Milla often shares akin to Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Fleabag. Through breaking the fourth wall, the viewer is drawn into Milla’s confidence, becoming, as it were, a co-conspirator to her. Like Moses, the audience is invited to join the family on this journey: when it becomes clear that Milla’s health continues to deteriorate, Henry and Anna ask Moses to stay with them, bribing him with the offer of legal prescriptions. It’s a drastic decision, but one fuelled by concern for their daughter, who only seems to be happy with Moses around. Despite the difference in their age (he is 23) and lifestyle, the two of them share an easy chemistry which is reflected beautifully in the performances of Scanlan and Wallace. Close-ups on all the characters often reveal the turmoil they barely hide beyond the surface: it’s a mastery of facial expressions that manages to capture volumes with the slightest twitch of a muscle or a light misting of the eyes. 

Both writing and direction ensure that the tone of the film retains its equilibrium between comedy and tragedy, timing cuts between the two extremes perfectly, preventing the film from growing too saccharine or too sad. It’s a subtle and underrated art to keep the balance, and one that isn’t easy to get right; Kalnejais and Murphy, however, undoubtedly succeed in their efforts. In the end, Babyteeth is never allowed to feel sentimental; instead, it’s “a film about how good it is not to be dead yet”, even as the impending loss becomes inevitable. As such, it remains fresh and unexpected despite following a somewhat predictable narrative, allowing Milla to enjoy the final months her young life to the fullest. A critical darling since its premiere at the Venice Film Festival 2019, Murphy’s debut feature has certainly made a lasting impression, both on this team and on general audiences. With such a formidable start to her film career, we can only wait in anticipation for what the Australian director chooses to do next.


So to recap, here’s our Top 20 so far…

=#20 – Shirley
=#20 – A Hidden Life
#19 – And Then We Danced
#18 – Dick Johnson is Dead
#17 – Never Rarely Sometimes Always
#16 – Wolfwalkers
#15 – I’m Thinking of Ending Things
#14 – True History of the Kelly Gang
#13 – A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
#12 – Lovers Rock
#11 – Ema
#10 – Mangrove
#9 – Rocks
#8 – 1917
#7 – Bacurau
#6 – Babyteeth

Stay tuned each and every day for the remainder of 2020 to count down our Top 10 films of 2020.