ABOVE: Cloris Leachman (L) and Thomas Duplessie in “Jump, Darling.” (Photo courtesy Breaking Glass Pictures)
It’s no wonder the late Cloris Leachman was beloved by so many fans in the LGBTQ community.
The Oscar- and multiple Emmy-winning actress, who passed away at 94 in January of 2021, left a legacy of iconic film and television performances. She was perhaps most adored as Phyllis Lindstrom on “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” and her own subsequent spin-off series, “Phyllis” – but who can forget her work with Mel Brooks in his comedy film classics of the 1970s, when characters like Frau Blucher (“Young Frankenstein”) and Nurse Diesel (“High Anxiety”) stole the show whenever they appeared on the screen?
These contributions to our popular culture – only the most famous examples from a prolific performance career that spanned seven decades – are more than enough to cement a permanent place for her in anyone’s heart; but she was also an LGBTQ advocate and ally, a frequent participant in GLAAD’s Media Awards and a vocal supporter of LGBTQ equality, and it’s this lesser-known real-life role that lends her a special significance in the memory of her many queer fans, a personal connection that endears her to us all the more.
With this in mind, it seems fitting that the final major film role she completed before her death should be in “Jump, Darling,” a Canadian dramedy in which she portrays an elderly woman bonding with her gay grandson, and which opens for a limited theatrical run in the U.S. March 18 before dropping for home viewing via DVD and VOD March 29.
Written and directed by first-time filmmaker Phil Connell, who drew inspiration from the relationship he developed with his own grandmother near the end of her life, it centers on Russell (Thomas Duplessie), a struggling young actor in Toronto who is also an aspiring drag queen. After an attack of stage fright derails his would-be first performance at a popular gay nightclub, he abruptly breaks up with his longtime boyfriend (Andrew Bushell) and heads out to the wine country of Prince Edward County for a surprise visit to the home of his grandmother Margaret (Leachman). A formidable woman in her day, she’s now in declining health, but still clinging as stubbornly as she can both to her sharp wits and her independence; though Russell’s visit is motivated more by selfish intentions than familial love, his presence in her home allows her to stave off – at least for the moment – pressure from her well-meaning daughter (and Russell’s mother) Ene (Linda Kash), who wants her to move into a retirement home, and she convinces him to stay for a while.
The arrangement turns out to be mutually beneficial, and not just because grandma is willing to sweeten the pot with a little financial relief. Russell starts hanging out at a local queer-friendly college bar, and soon finds himself drawn back into his drag ambitions – and to a not-so-straight busboy named Zachary (Kwaku Adu-Poku). Meanwhile, Margaret gets to retain her freedom as she fights to keep control of her faltering mind and come to terms with her own mortality, haunted by memories of her husband’s long-ago suicide. Through the time they spend together, the bond between them grows, and as he becomes increasingly invested in helping his grandmother face the end of her life with dignity, Russell begins to find a sense of clarity and purpose that just might be enough to help him finally start down the right path of his own.
Connell, in the film’s production notes, says “Jump, Darling” was conceived as an homage to the classic “family drama” movies that he loved growing up, but seen through the lens of queer experience and queer culture. There wasn’t much of a budget, but he was convinced that, if his movie was going to work, he needed to have a star as Margaret. “Family dramas tend to be independent fare,” he observes. “What elevates them into the mainstream (or gives them the chance at it) is a powerful matriarchal performance, from someone you know, recognize, and cherish. Or maybe that’s just me.”
Luckily, after numerous unsuccessful bids to attract the interest of big-name Hollywood actresses of a certain age, the-indie-friendly Leachman eagerly came on board, and Connell’s determination proved to have been well justified. Just as the filmmaker predicted, her presence both lifts his movie and gives it weight, and her performance – as fearless, authentic, vulnerable, and layered as any she ever gave – provides the deep emotional core the story needs. It’s a star turn, make no mistake, and a worthy swan song for a legendary talent – and that’s a good thing, because without it, “Jump, Darling” would be a much more ordinary film.
That’s not a bad thing, necessarily. Connell has a strong narrative sense and a knack for conveying his characters’ inner struggles without spelling them out for us, both of which keep us interested in the movie’s main storyline – Russell’s need to overcome self-doubt and fully embrace his queerness both in his career and in his life – despite its familiarity. His explorations of drag onscreen are infused with respect and knowledge of the drag milieu, and though he doesn’t try to sanitize the drag or tone it down, he never falls prey to the temptation to take things too far over the top, either – this is not “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert,” after all. His instinct toward restraint serves him well, and so does his leading man; newcomer Duplessie is an engaging, charismatic, and talented performer, both in and out of drag, and his Russell would be well capable of carrying the film even without such a legendary co-star.
Russell’s story is only half the picture, though; without the grounding force of his relationship with Margaret – and all the deeper, life-affirming, nurturing forces it represents – there would be little impetus for him to change or to grow, and perhaps even less for audiences to care. Without her, his passion for drag would likely feel to us like an untethered impulse, a reflexive and attention-seeking attempt to express something only half-understood. Through the filter of their interactions, we are allowed to discover who he is and what he’s trying to do even as he makes those discoveries for himself, and it makes all the difference. That doesn’t mean a less famous actress would not have been able to give an equally towering performance in the role – but the hard truth of the movie business is that far fewer people would have cared, and “Jump, Darling” would almost surely have been overlooked by all but the most dedicated followers of the queer indie film festival circuit.
But if speculating about how a film might have been better if it were different is a pointless exercise, then so is speculating about how it might have been worse. With Leachman’s final starring performance as a centerpiece, this one is just fine as it is, and it’s well-worth seeking out for all her queer fans, if only to enjoy it as her parting gift to us all.
