In one of the most brutally authentic "show-don't-tell" styles I have ever read, MacLean masterfully aligns non-linear but thematically-linked scenes that portray the lasting damages of trauma for Gen, a woman who keeps pressing forward and swinging (for mostly futile results), until real love enables her to confront her pain. And her abuser. SULLEN GIRL, with its sharp and darkly-witty dialogue, takes a cold, hard look at some impossible truths--but it shows us the way out, too. And this script compels us all to do the same: "What you hear in the dark, you must speak in the light."
In one of the most brutally authentic "show-don't-tell" styles I have ever read, MacLean masterfully aligns non-linear but thematically-linked scenes that portray the lasting damages of trauma for Gen, a woman who keeps pressing forward and swinging (for mostly futile results), until real love enables her to confront her pain. And her abuser. SULLEN GIRL, with its sharp and darkly-witty dialogue, takes a cold, hard look at some impossible truths--but it shows us the way out, too. And this script compels us all to do the same: "What you hear in the dark, you must speak in the light."