
Original caricature by Jeff York of Britt Lower in DARKEST MIRIAM (copyright 2025)
Actress Britt Lower has made a name for herself as one of our more compelling actresses and it’s amazing how much she does with her reactions on screen. The use of her eyes, her body language, and even a simple tilt of her head speak volumes, often more than pages of dialogue. It all makes for a fascinating presentation of character, showing us plenty, and asking us to understand someone without the crutch of words. Lower’s skills in such actions and reactions are especially apparent in the hit show SEVERANCE. In that vaulted sci-fi series, you can tell the difference between her character’s “innie” and “outie” merely by her gait or how she lowers her brow to stare at someone. It’s an extraordinary performance, and now Lower broadens her resume even more with the title role in the new indie DARKEST MIRIAM. It’s quiet and yet intense, much like Lower’s screen persona, and written and directed by Naomi Jaye. The story concerns introverted librarian Miriam Gordon wrestling with inner demons and social anxiety, and despite being a distant and shy woman, Lower and Jaye make the character remarkably accessible.
Jaye has adapted author Martha Baillie’s book The Incident Report and the filmmaker brings both the plotting and spirit of the prose to her feature film now available on VOD. Baillie’s title refers to various incidents in the library that Miriam must write up, everything from misplaced books to altercations with some of the crazies mulling about in the communal space. Jaye captures both the oddities and danger of such people and why they lead the late-30s woman to proceed through life with extreme caution. Miriam has other reasons to shrink from connecting to others too, including some disturbing experiences from her past, especially with her father, and some of those connections make their way into the incident reports that Miriam writes up.
At times, Miriam seems on the verge of unraveling, afraid of the world around her, clinging to routine, and blending into the quiet of the library. She even downplays her looks, wearing her haphazard hair up and downplaying her feminity in hanging, ratty sweaters. But when Miriam meets a Toronto cab driver lunching in the same park as she is, her life changes. Janko (a wonderfully sturdy Tom Mercier) is Slovenian and somewhat sullen, characteristics that intimidate Miriam, but as she gets to know him more, she likes what she sees. Janko is kind, a good listener, and quietly romantic. He paints to counter his loneliness, finding escape in his art, just as Miriam finds escape in her books. They become a couple, though Miriam cannot even stay through the night, scrambling away to avoid further exposure to her emotions.
Slowly, as the film builds, Jaye reveals depths to both of the main characters and their relationship brings out a new vividness in Miriam. She starts sharing more and more with her boyfriend and even tells us more of her inner thoughts as she weaves her way through those incident reports. Miriam is finally telling her story, living a vital one. Lower’s performance still stays cool and in control, but her Miriam leads us to lean in to want to know all the more about her. And we start to care exponentially for this troubled but trying soul.
It’s a clever approach from Jaye and Lower, taking both Miriam and those of us in the audience on this revelatory journey. The film may start with a remote heroine, a cold formality to the cinematography, and austerity to the soundtrack, but eventually all of what we’re witnessing warms and brightens, and we open ourselves to the world whirling around Miriam, just as she does.
There are too few films like this these days – smart, earnest, and subtle showcases about humanity – but Jaye, Lower, et al. do the indie character study very proud with DARKEST MIRIAM. Despite its title, it’s one of the brighter additions to the 2025 world of cinema.