Written and directed by Niav Conty
Starring Audrey Grace Marshall, Kevin Loreque, Holter Graham
Runtime: 1 hour and 44 minutes
Virtual Cinemas and Digital on November 11

by Whitley Albury, Staff Writer

I always claim that I’m from the “city,” but in actuality, I grew up in a rural community about 35 minutes west of the biggest landmark. So watching Small Time definitely reawakened key memories of my childhood.

Emma (Audrey Grace Marshall) stands over her grandfather’s corpse in the opening. She picks up her cat, Ace, during the wake, and feeds him a pig in a blanket. “So what brings you here?” she asks the woman next to her. “Well...he was my dad.” Emma grew up under her grandfather’s care, since her mother, Jessie (Dominique Johnson), had addiction issues.

Things seem relatively comfortable for the two, as Emma and Jessie start to get used to each other. Then Jessie calls Rick (Holter Graham), her dealer and ex-boyfriend. Things go...about as well as you would expect. Emma gets bounced around between Rick and Lonnie (Kevin Loreque), her biological father.

There are a few time jumps that can seem a little confusing, but honestly, it adds to the atmosphere. Emma is such a pure soul, and despite the absolute mess of a situation she’s thrust into, she maintains that innocence. There were so many parts that made my stomach drop (like Rick’s “buddies” asking what else she can do besides make cookies, and Rick’s girlfriend enlisting her help in cooking down her heroin), but those scenes were handled with such grace that it was refreshing.

As much as we’re supposed to dislike Rick, he’s the one who acts more like a father to Emma than Lonnie ever does. He teases her about his scars (“dinosaur bite”), he encourages her to “adopt” Ace the cat (meaning: he 100% helped her steal the kitten from one of his clients). Lonnie, meanwhile, still lives with his mother, and is recovering from PTSD from his time serving in the war. Which war? Honestly, it’s easy to lose track.

Which brings me to the main point: so many of the characters use drugs. However, none of them are portrayed as “bad” because of this. Niav Conty did what I so hoped she would do: portray all of these characters as human, not good and bad, but as flawed people. Considering this is her first feature length film, I’m highly impressed. Of course, everything is beautifully shot as well. But this film delivers substance in addition to style, and despite being sad and disturbing, there’s a glimmer of hope, as well.