‘My Dead Friend Zoe’ is daring in its profile of PTSD
If you’re like me, you may assume a movie bearing the title “My Dead Friend Zoe” is a macabre teen comedy in the vein of “Weekend at Bernie’s.” So imagine the shock of discovering that the debut film from Kyle Hausmann-Stokes is in reality a devastating portrayal of the root causes and consequences of PTSD.
For him, the sobering statistic that our military veterans are dying by their own hand at a rate of 17 per day is personal. He’s lost two close friends to an epidemic that, according to the movie, has now resulted in the suicides of more than 127,000 American vets in the two decades since 9/11. To put that into perspective, consider that’s more than twice as many killed (58,279) in the entirety of the Vietnam War. Shocking, right? More so when you consider how little our government is doing to address it.
Hopefully, “My Dead Friend Zoe” will send a wake-up call to politicians more concerned with the perceived threat of transgender athletes than the welfare men and women who risk their lives in defense of our country. People like Merit Charles and Zoe Ramirez, two women of markedly different backgrounds who form an intense bond while serving in Afghanistan. They are Army mechanics by trade but frequently find themselves on guard duty, long stretches of mind-numbing boredom during which the only respite is striking up a lasting friendship. One, it turns out, that transcends death.
We know this because everywhere Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green) goes, Zoe (Natalie Morales) is literally right there beside her. More than a ghost, Zoe is a flesh-and-blood manifestation of the intense and persistent guilt haunting Merit, who blames herself for her friend’s demise. The whys and wherefores won’t be revealed until late in the picture, causing one to wonder what awful role Merit might have played. The assumption is that it was something negligent or irresponsible judging by how severely she beats herself up.
What I like about the unusual approach Hausmann-Stokes adopts in telling a variation on his own experiences is his emphasis on the camaraderie between Merit and Zoe. Ultimately, it’s not about how Zoe died, but how she lived – and continues to live in Merit’s vivid imagination. It may take a while to surrender to the movie’s supernatural conceit, but once you do, be prepared to be deeply moved. And never forget there are hundreds of thousands of Zoes still out there struggling with acute cases of PTSD, a condition Merit’s grandfather, Dale (an excellent Ed Harris), genuinely believes is a sign of weakness.
A lieutenant colonel, he witnessed a lot of horrors in his two tours of Vietnam and lost a lot of friends, but true to the phrase, he soldiered on. “Suck it up,” he tells Merit whenever he catches her sinking into a depression. He may as well say, “Be a man.” Hausmann-Stokes seems to suggest it’s those macho attitudes that prevent many veterans from seeking and receiving the help they desperately need. Psychologist Dr. Cole, Morgan Freeman, a vet himself, says as much amid a continuing battle to persuade Merit to open up and deal with her PTSD during group therapy.
But Merit, like her Pop Pop, is obstinate and oblivious to the possibility that stubbornness can be as lethal as an M-16. So too is Zoe, who seated directly alongside Merit during group, openly mocks the stories shared by her fellow brothers in arms legitimately desiring to exorcise their demons. Thankfully, only Merit – and, of course, us – can hear the callous comments. Or, more precisely, what Merit’s pesky conscience is revealing.
Adding to her anguish are the efforts of her mother, Kris (Gloria Reuben), to move Dale out of his bird-feeder-bedecked lakeside cabin in Oregon into a generic-looking facility able to care for him 24-7 as his Alzheimer’s progresses. We, and Merit, know this is a terrible idea, but the center’s funny, charming proprietor, Alex (Utkarsh Ambudkar), is making it harder for Merit to take a stand. To know Alex is to love him. But Merit can’t bring herself to encourage their mutual attraction. In her mind, a romantic relationship would mean betraying Zoe. And don’t think Zoe doesn’t let Merit know it.
This may be Hausmann-Stokes’ first foray into writing a screenplay, but he and A.J. Bermudez do an outstanding job of establishing and fleshing out relationships, whether it’s Merit and Alex, Merit and Dale, or Merit and Zoe. There’s depth and authenticity in all three pairings. You can feel the love and respect. It’s reflected in the high-quality performances the script engenders, not just from its name stars, but also the dozen or so real-life vets playing themselves. You’d never guess they’d never acted before.
In many ways, “My Dead Friend Zoe” is like the recent “Sing Sing,” with its mix of amateur thespians being provided a platform to tell their own stories. And in the process, they discover as much about themselves as we learn about them and their various hardships. In both cases, the results are excellent films that open the eyes and stir the soul. Perhaps more so here because almost all of us know someone forever changed by the ugliness of war. I know I do. And “My Dead Friend Zoe,” co-produced by Travis Kelce, makes clear its plea for us to simply acknowledge the sacrifices and suffering of these valiant men and women. It’s a minimal gesture, but it could well save a life. A fair ask, I’d say, for the people who gallantly take to the battlefield at a moment’s notice to preserve ours.
Movie review
My Dead Friend Zoe
Rated: R for language
Cast: Sonequa Martin-Green, Natalie Morales, Ed Harris, Morgan Freeman, Gloria Reuben and Utkarsh Ambudkar
Director: Kyle Hausmann-Stokes
Writers: Kyle Hausmann-Stokes and A.J. Bermudez
Runtime: 98 minutes
Where: In theaters Feb. 28
Grade: B+
