‘Thelma’ Review: June Squibb gets her bag back in cozy, granny-tributing caper
Just when you thought The Beekeeper was the only person steamrolling scam artists trying to steal money from the elderly, here comes an elderly woman ready to show him up. Okay, I’m being hyperbolic since Josh Margolin’s Thelma doesn’t have his 93-year-old protagonist engaging in hand-to-hand combat, but she’s on a mission across the Los Angeles Valley to get back what’s hers after getting scammed.
93-year-old Thelma Post (June Squibb) gets a call from a scammer impersonating her close grandson Danny (Fred Hechinger) and is duped out of $10,000. This incident causes Danny, her daughter Gail (Parker Posey), and her son-in-law Alan (Clark Gregg) to think she’s incapable of handling herself and living independently in the wake of her husband’s death. Wanting to regain her hard-earned money and independence without worrying her family, Thelma embarks across the Los Angeles Valley to find her thief. She also reluctantly brings Ben (Richard Roundtree in his final performance), one of her few surviving friends, for the ride.
Josh Margolin noticed the only “old folks” representation in action roles was Up, and made a non-animated film that’ll give them some adrenaline. Margolin is pretty blunt with Thelma’s Mission: Impossible inspiration as an early scene sees Danny and Thelma watching Mission: Impossible - Fallout, discussing how Cruise does his stunts (which the recent Garfield movie also jokes about). In honor of its MI roots, June Squibb does most of her stunts. Thelma follows the caper formula, with a hint of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’s structure in the way of The Beekeeper. I say Ferris Bueller since many sequences involve Thelma using her wits to avoid her overprotective family searching for her while she’s on her adventure.
Margolin successfully prevents his leads from veering into Mr. Magoo's territory, where physical disadvantages are a punchline. Instead, he cleverly utilizes everyday accessories to aid Thelma and Ben during their mission, like synchronized hearing aids. Ideas such as a mobility scooter chase scene or climbing a flight of stairs to get a gun also stand out as set pieces, which are equally fun and intense thanks to Margolin’s inspired and cozy filmmaking.
Squibb brings the unpredictable wild card energy, immaculate comedic timing, and charm from her performance as Kate Grant in Nebraska. She finally gets to offer the badass leading performance she always deserved. Lately, it’s felt like she was typecast as the comedic grandma in a supporting role. Thelma, thankfully, is Squibb at her finest, showing her hand as a grandma you don’t want to fuck with while crafting that universal familiarity of a loving grandma. Finding that balance of singularity and familiarity isn’t easy, so Squibb's achievement is as remarkable as her counterpart's.
Besides the character’s badassery, Thelma is written with rich, empathic characterization. The story finds her a few years following her longtime husband’s passing, making her more independent than a widow. That independence is her fuel and flaw as her pride is challenged when she needs help from her pal Ben, whose kindness towards her she disapproves of. However, the script mines complex conversations about mortality and life through her relationship with Ben, as both sides have different perceptions of their new chapters in the wake of their spouse’s absence.
Squibb and Richard Roundtree’s performances filled my heart with glee and warmth. As much as I adore Squibb, watching Roundtree in his final posthumous role was magical and tear-jerking. He’s sublime as Thelma’s emotional foil, pouring that endless charisma and smoothness that inspired a whole era of Black cinema for a character who just wants to help out his friend. The chemistry they share is strong as their dynamic reaches unexpected areas. I teared up during the film’s latter half because I still saw young Roundtree in his O.G. Shaft era. His powerful performance cemented how one-in-a-million his radiance was. Though he’s gone, his everlasting charm elevates Thelma’s lighthearted sweetness, still proving that he’ll always be a bad mother– shut your mouth!
Margolin’s passionate appreciation for his grandma sneaks up on you, Pixar-styled, delivering a gut-punching blow to your feels in the same vein Lulu Wang’s The Farewell did. It vocalizes my fear of losing my grandma – or grandmas (plural) since both are around – but particularly my late dad's mom, the originator of the Rendy name. I’ve been spending more time with her recently, as she’s the only remaining part of my dad’s side, and in many ways, she’s one of the only pieces I have left of him. So you can imagine the pain I’ll feel once she’s gone, which I hope isn’t anytime soon. Margolin wears his emotion on his sleeve, especially with a very resonant scene between Squibb and Hechinger, and it choked me up when I thought about both of my grandmas. Thelma is a film for all the grandma’s kids but not for the faint of heart who lost one recently. Unless you can fixate on Thelma’s primary caper campaign, wait a few years before watching, or strictly avoid it. You will form a puddle with your tears.
The subplot involving Danny going through a generational conflict of coddling arc was tacked on. It’s admirable how Margolin’s script tries to incorporate another intriguing thematic element involving the Post family’s cycle of overprotectiveness, especially with Danny acting as Thelma’s warden rather than grandson at times. Yet his subplot, contrasting his codependency and Thelma’s independence, is hardly as interesting as everything happening during Thelma’s adventure. It adds more themes than it can handle, and you feel the good pacing grind to a halt.
Bolstered by June Squibb’s badassery and Richard Roundtree's boundless charm, Josh Margolin’s Thelma is sweet and warm like your grandma’s baked cookies, with the perfect sugar rush for everyone.