“Mother, I want you to know that I thoroughly understand why you were so fucked up, and I’ll do whatever I can do to prevail that child abuse sucks, and it’s gotta stop. Maybe your pain was for something, mother. I was afraid of you all my life. And I didn’t spit on your grave like I thought I would. But mother, I do respect you. I respect your tenacity, and someday I won’t be so afraid and maybe I can love you. And I won’t be afraid to love you because you were a dangerous caged animal. Maybe someday beyond the grave I’ll feel that it’s safe to love you.”
That monologue left me stunned. It’s one of the rawest, most beautiful things I’ve ever heard in a film.
Sometimes a film finds you at the right moment, and this one did just that.
It’s an offbeat, complex documentary with a DIY indie spirit, unapologetically personal. We witness Llana reinvent herself in the wild heart of the 1970s rock culture, and I was rooting for her.
Llana Lloyd… what a woman. The way she narrated her story was fearless, strong, magnetic. I fell in love with her as a storyteller and as a woman reinventing herself against the backdrop of 70s rock culture.
I realize now that this is about much more than just her journey. It’s about survival, art, and daring to reinvent yourself. I’m grateful I got to witness it, and I’ll carry her words with me.
