Beth de Araújo’s highly impressive and memorable second feature Josephine taps into every parent’s worst nightmare and then explores how the story’s family unit navigates the fallout afterwards. It’s an arresting experience that de Araújo does not shy away from examining and expertly executing.
Eight-year-old Josephine (Mason Reeves) often visits San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park early morning near her home to play soccer with her father Damien, played by Channing Tatum, whom she has a close bond with. This time, she runs ahead before stopping near some public toilets where she sees a female jogger enter, followed by a male acting suspiciously. What happens next is both confusing and frightening for the young girl as she witnesses a serious sexual assault, sparking the catalyst of the end of childhood innocence and the biggest test of her family dynamic.
The violence is shown in its full ugly detail, unlike other films that shirk away from such scenes, often favouring flashback scenarios to fill in the gaps. Both Josephine and the viewer are witnesses, allowing us to make our own assumptions about the handling of the child by the authorities and the mental health effects. The police come across as ‘matter of fact’, almost cynical and systematic. The subsequent child services that assist in the court case, guiding Josephine are effective in procedure to an extent, but there always feels like something ‘missing’ in the care given to protecting a young primary witness that accentuates the harrowing feeling as events progress.
The parents are the gauge throughout in how case events are progressing: Tatum as the working class male with his own demons and feelings of helplessness in not being able to protect his family, his frustrations ploughed into daily workouts with his tomboy daughter and his responses often appearing clumsy and desperate; Gemma Chan as the mother Claire who holds a dark secret of her own and tries to be more tactile in approach, being the parent who manages to express feelings better. Each character brings their own strengths to trying to cope and heal as Josephine ‘sees’ her bogeyman every day and acts out as the pressure grows. It is a fascinating dynamic at play that de Araújo sensitively gives equal time to in her film.
Tatum’s performance as Damien is one of the finest and nuanced of his career as the character swings from tender handling of his daughter and wife one moment, to menacing outbursts of rage showing inner turmoil at his impotence in the situation, with the actor handling these with perfection and without stereotyping his character. Chan is initially a motherly figure of guidance, reason and femininity as Claire, although she teeters on the edge as the event unlocks old wounds within the confines of a once tight family environment. However, newcomer Mason Reeves is exceptional and the film’s centrifugal force, carrying nearly every scene as we witness Josephine’s questioning young nature and her mental unravelling resulting episodes at school. De Araújo’s finale for the trio is wisely left open to interpretation, without delivering any answers or happy endings.
Josephine delivers a stark and compelling insight into the effects of extreme violence on the young mind and its injustices that hauntingly linger long after it ends.
