“Sweetheart Deal” - Documentary Review
This review was originally posted on Film Obsessive.
The true purpose of documentary filmmaking is to put the audience in the shoes of a person or people they know nothing about. Film, as a medium, is uniquely positioned to immerse the audience through visual and auditory means. Recently, documentary work has been overrun by exploitative true crime stories instead of the vérité portraits of human beings that best utilize the strengths of the genre. Even though Sweetheart Deal accidentally finds itself crossing into true crime territory, it didn’t set out to do so. The documentary, directed by Elisa Levine and Gabriel Miller, is an empathetic look at the lives of four sex workers in Seattle and an unexpected betrayal that changes the course of their lives.
Sweetheart Deal centers its lens on Krista, Sara, Kristine, and Tammy. The four women are sex workers on Aurora Avenue in Seattle, Washington. While it’s mostly solitary work, the four women (and others) are familiar with one another because of the so-called Mayor of Aurora, Laughn. He lives in a rundown RV that he parks along Aurora Avenue, and it serves as a shelter of sorts for these women. It’s a safe place for them to go to in the middle of the night when they feel unsafe, and Laughn gives them food, water, a place to sleep, whatever they need. He’s worked with one of the women to track down a man who raped her. He tries to help them to overcome their addictions. Laughn offers these women support they don’t usually have.
Courtesy of Sweetheart Deal
Sweetheart Deal is one of those films that is essential, urgent, and so difficult to watch. The directors approach the stories of these women with kindness, and without flinching from the hard-to-watch moments. The audience sees them as they get high, try to get clean, and try to leave Aurora Avenue behind them. Sweetheart Deal shows all the realities of the catch-22 these women experience every day. Some of them were kicked out of their homes in their teens, become involved in sex work to make money to survive, get arrested, and then become pretty much unhirable. This country likes to pretend that it’s a land of freedom and opportunity, but it also traps people based on one moment of their lives. There are no social structures that exist to help rehabilitate, and it’s no surprise that these women cling to Laughn. He offers more of a robust treatment center and safe haven than the city of Seattle does.
“I have not met a working girl who’s gotten out of the life who’s not come back here. Not one. Not yet.” That is the reality of Sweetheart Deal and Krista, Sara, Kristine, and Tammy, but there’s a little bit of hope tacked on to the end of that sentiment. “Not yet.” It’s a powerful sentence made from only two words, and it speaks to how Sweetheart Deal’s story unwinds itself. When the aforementioned betrayal occurs, the women choose to band together instead of further fragmenting themselves from one another. There is strength in unity. A future that can be built on the desire to change things, no matter how difficult.
Courtesy of TIFF
If this documentary sounds like something cooked up in the mind of Sean Baker, you’re not far off. Baker is an outspoken champion of the film. Sweetheart Deal doesn’t have the same dreamlike quality the worlds of Baker have. There’s no technicolor sunset of Tangerine or bubblegum colors of The Florida Project. Instead, Sweetheart Deal shows the starkness of the city and the urban sprawl. The number of chain establishments grounds this as a deeply American story, one that’s likely playing out in every city in the country.
Sweetheart Deal shows the insidious nature of predators who believe they’re above the law and who take advantage of those who are vulnerable. It’s a harrowing film that exemplifies the ability of the documentary genre to showcase earnest, honest storytelling that can provide a roadmap for change. A lesser version of this film would have focused wholly on the trauma of these women, exploiting it for the sake of creating content to be consumed. Instead, Sweetheart Deal adamantly makes the case that the stories of humans deserve to be heard, reflected upon, and learned from. So many of the circumstances of these women are exacerbated by shortcomings of the United States government, but it’s up to us to take care of each other. Sweetheart Deal, by all accounts, is heavy, but it also ends on a hopeful note. The earlier sentiment of “not yet” returns in full force and proves that just because something has never been done before, that doesn’t mean it’s not impossible.
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