Wyss presents a tragic existence in “The ID”

In the beginning of “The ID,” a movie available on Blu-ray, a voice-over states that if a person purely loves someone, they certainly also can destroy that person.

This segues into a scene in which a woman in her 40s stands before a mirror, humming as she applies lipstick. It is a view of contentment and optimism. Wherever this woman is going, she appears poised to light up the room.

And then, from another room comes the bellowing summons: “Meridith!” The expression on the woman’s melts turns to despair. The caller is Meridith’s elderly and sickly father for whom she is a fulltime caretaker. And he is quite the patient from Hell.

Welcome to Meridith Lane’s life. The sanctuary offered by the vanity table in her room is no match for the grim reality of what she faces every day.

In “The ID,” Amanda Wyss (“A Nightmare on Elm Street”) delivers a wrenching performance as Meridith in an emotionally harrowing story of a woman trapped by circumstances in which she is doing well by simply coping and fending off a demanding and foul-mouthed father who vents the frustrations of his own depressing existence by putting her down and keeping her on the defensive.

Directed by Thommy Hutson and based on a script by SeanĀ  H. Stewart, “The ID” is a horror story in that it depicts a terrifying situation in which two people are trapped in a 24/7 nightmare in from which they both seemingly would love to escape, yet each day do whatever is necessary to maintain this dreary status quo because they believe there is no alternative.

The relationship between Meridith and her father is both dysfunctional and needy. These are two people whose lives have taken a tragically wrong turn. There is no room for optimism. It is a day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute existence. And the truly unsettling aspect is the realization that this dismal arrangement likely has been going on for years.

Confined to their home, Meridith and Father (Patrick Peduto) have no contact with the outside world except for Tricia (Jamye Meri Grant), a bubbly young woman who delivers food to the household. Tricia is a vibrant and caring person who would like to invest more in reaching out to Meridith and Father than just dropping off food every day. But her efforts are impeded by Meridith, who in her skewed perceptions sees Tricia as an intruder and someone who threatens the one thing Meridith can control: making sure that she and she alone takes care of her father.

How did Meridith fall into this depressing life? Well, Father likes to insert the needle here, accusing of her taking the easy way out in everything she ever did. He insinuates that it was disappointment over Meridith that drove away his wife, whereas Meridith in the few times she pushes back, suggests it was his behavior that drove away her mother.

This relationship simmers with the potential of an explosion that both people likely fear and do what they can to veer away from such a fate. It only takes one little nudge to upset this sad, fragile balance.

It comes in the form of a phone call Meridith receives from Ted, her high school sweetheart. After 20-plus years of no contact, Ted calls to say he will be town and would love to see Meridith again. At first, Meridith sees this as impossible, but the abuse heaped upon her by Father begins to embolden her. Naturally, when she agrees to see Ted and informs her father of this, a standoff occurs. They remind each other that neither one is capable of change at this point, so Ted could well be inconsequential.

However, Meridith indulges in recalling fond memories of a time in her life that was energized by youthful love and ambition. This leads to the breaking point that sends Meridith spiraling into the inevitable madness that has stalked her for years, maybe even decades.

Wyss and Peduto give courageous performances that are both emotionally and physically raw. Except for rare instances, Wyss looks haggard as Meridith, barren of makeup, a face of endless exhaustion. Peduto presents an unappealing picture of a man well past his prime. His hairline has receded and what is left there is long and unkempt. Despite being bathed by Meridith he exudes an aura of neglected hygiene. Physically he seems as foul as his language and demeanor.

“The ID” is scary because it explicitly depicts a frightening relationship that can and does exist in reality. Shot within the confines of the home in which Meridith and Father reside, it also is claustrophobic. In any other situation, the home would be pristine and a fertile environment for a content household. But with the residents being Meridith and her father, the walls seem impenetrable, fortified by the hopelessness of two people smothered by an endless love-hate relationship.

 

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