Film

A smutty joke told with a remarkably straight face, Sam Garbarski’s drama asks for a startling leap of faith: Can you accept that a middle-aged grandmother might find personal liberation in the world of glory holes? Maggie (Faithfull), a passive, self-proclaimed frump, is determined to raise the cash for her grandson’s lifesaving operation, which is why she inquires about a “hostess” job in a sleazy Soho club. The owner (Manojlovic) explains exactly what that euphemism means; he also notes that Maggie has exceptionally soft fingers. Decorum dictates that the specific details of what happens next should be experienced, ah, firsthand by viewers. Let’s just say that our heroine, redubbed Irina Palm, becomes extremely popular with the clientele as “the widow who wanks.”

That Garbarski doesn’t turn the movie into either a gratuitous slog through feel-bad territory or a pop-scored celebration of empowerment through naughtiness à la The Full Monty is a minor miracle; Faithfull’s performance, however, is a major one. Casting an iconic ’60s libertine in the titular role may seem cute, but the actor’s sad-clown rictus and faint smiles nullify any deal-breaking bathos. A series of pandering last-act moments—confronting judgmental friends, repairing familial damage—breaks the spell, but Faithfull’s sublime take remains gripping throughout.