Stacie Passon’s Concussion presents us with a sensitive and nuanced portrayal of Abby Ableman (Robin Weigert), who, after a hit to the head, becomes embroiled in prostitution as a reaction to the lethargy of the domestic life she leads with her wife, Kate, and two children. Abby’s story, through Passon’s intelligent writing and directing, constitutes a welcome escape from those of the commonly one-dimensional gay characters often presented by a film industry plagued by heteronormativity. Perhaps the most pleasing aspect of the film is the matter-of-fact treatment of this rare premise; indeed, the plot is independent of Abby and Kate’s lesbianism, which is entirely unselfconscious.

Perhaps as a result of this sensitive and understated take on the premise, the film lacks the compelling plot that might have been its making. One cannot help thinking that Passon could simply have made more of the plot, and that, in skirting over gritty issues, her film falls short of being memorable. Although there are hints of homophobia, in the form of snide comments from other mothers, and of the dangers of prostitution when a client gets aggressive, these tantalising snippets of grittier subject matter are quickly abandoned in order not to detract from the romanticisation of life as a high-class escort. Presumably, Passon consciously avoids explicitly dealing with a theme of homophobia in order to normalise storylines about gay couples without focusing on stereotypical ‘gay issues’. Although an admirable aim, the plot is thus left hollow and largely forgettable.

Compensation for the disappointing plot is found, however, in the beautiful cinematography, which draws subtle parallels between luxury furnishing and decoration afforded by Abby’s day job as an interior designer and the supposedly luxurious, and heavily romanticised, life as an escort. The consistently bright natural light offers stark clarity, offsetting the clever sense of imbalance in the occasionally jumpy chronology and unexpectedly short scenes. These devices combine to create an illusory atmosphere in a sophisticated nod to the title. This interaction between clarity and illusion affords the many sex scenes with both romance and rawness; they feel genuine and rarely contrived, again offering Abby’s character pleasing stereotype-avoiding nuances, and presenting a vaguely representative cross-section of society in the form of clients. Weigert’s casting is genius; she brings multiplicity of character to an already well-written role and it seems a shame that she must carry the entire film with such a commendable performance.