It is so interesting how much of the future that we live in was first concocted in the experimental indie film arena. In the 1970s, Jim McBride made history with David Holzman’s Diary, where the main character filmed himself throughout the whole movie. What was an oddity back then is now the influencer industry. In the early 1980s, Wallace Shawn shattered the concept of what a movie could be by filming a feature-length conversation with My Dinner With Andre. That’s now podcasting, which, last time I checked, had replaced television. I flat-out doubted how entertaining My Submission would be when my editor handed me the assignment. I now feel Clarke may have stumbled on a new form of cinema, as this is totally riveting.
Instead of a solo found footage movie, we are treated to a genuine expression of creativity that originates from the subject itself. The audience sees the organic growth of what starts as a job application transformed into a makeshift work of art. It’s not real; the whole thing was scripted by Clarke, yet the verisimilitude is remarkable. Sonson completely sells her character’s yin-yang of desperation and excitement. There are many levels of her performance, as we get both her performer front as well as the person behind it. Sonson carries the entire production square upon her shoulders alone and still runs away with the show. She pulls off the peaches in the syrup scene with the same level of showmanship Nicholson did with dry wheat toast in Five Easy Pieces.
Marissa Peterson (Allison Sonson) checks her phone between takes in My Submission (2026).
“The concept is going to sound really boring to many. Trust me, this is not boring.”
The concept is going to sound really boring to many. Trust me, this is not boring. And I am speaking from someone with a very high thrill threshold; I do not care for my stimuli to be soft or quiet. For instance, today for breakfast I had the Mother, Teacher, Destroyer album by The Hidden Hand while I smoked my coffee. My Submission has a great sense of humor, with a high caliber of laughs throughout, but still pulls it back enough to keep it from devolving into a comedy. Using jokes sparingly allows Clarke to explore deeper areas with more gravity. There is some highly on-point commentary that gives full throat to the frustration of trying to make it in “the business”, and the unfair imbalance of power between artists and the gatekeepers that decide whose work gets out there.
This gets down to some of the core themes in My Submission, as the hint of S&M from the title is not accidental. Sometimes, some very frank subjects arise, with some interesting tidbits of an adult nature coming to light. It isn’t the constant driving force of the movie, but just like the humor, the sexual material springs up in some very deft places. Not that clothes come off, because they don’t. In a nod to the post-exploitation world, Clarke does a complete abandonment of objectification. The lack of skin doesn’t inhibit the arousal at all; in fact, by the finale, the aura of spiciness gets downright volcanic. This may be the last film on Earth you may want to sit through, which will make your unavoidable enjoyment of it all the sweeter.
"…the aura of spiciness gets downright volcanic."
