In Lynn Shelton’s brilliant comedy Sword of Trust, Mel (Marc Maron) runs a Birmingham, Alabama, pawnshop with his worthless Millennial assistant Nathaniel (Jon Bass – very funny). Cynthia (Jillian Bell) has returned to Alabama, with her partner Mary (Michaela Watkins), to claim an inheritance that disappointingly turns out to be a single antique sword. But the grandfather’s incoherent letter about the sword fits the Internet ravings of a White supremacist cult called the “Provers” (like “Truthers”), who are hunting for artifacts that “prove” that the Confederacy really won the Civil War. The four resolve to cash in an a windfall by dealing the sword to the scary underground racist cult. Comic situations, naturally, ensue.
There’s plenty of grist for comedy here, and Shelton bores in on the widespread absence of critical thinking that meshes with the Internet to give platforms to crackpot conspiracy theories. From Anti-vaxxers to Truthers, folks are now somehow comfortable with denying scientific or historical fact to fit a narrative that they prefer. In Sword of Trust, that idiocy ranges from denying the Union victory in the Civil War to even the roundness of the Earth.
Sword of Trust is very successful as a comedy, but there’s another, very emotionally powerful story in here. Mel’s ex, Deirdre, drops by the shop in an attempt to extract some cash for a modest ring. It’s clear that Deidre has had a toxic and near-ruinous impact on Mel’s life, an impact that he can’t – and perhaps won’t – escape. This story takes up less than ten minutes, essentially book-ending the sword comedy, but it’s the meat of Maron’s performance and the heartfelt core of the film.
Maron’s performance as Mel is a tour de force. When Mel first sees Diedre, he silently freezes for an instant and takes the long way around the shop to gather himself before reaching the counter. He listens to Deidre’s story with a knowing weariness in his eyes. When Deidre says “I’m good for it” and Mel replies, “No, you’re not”, it is with the quiet certainty of a man scarred. Later, Maron’s Mel relates his own back story, and it’s all the more heartbreaking because of his matter-of-factness. This is one of the best performances of the year.
And, Deidre, what a mess! The fidgety desperation just underneath her sad story du jour just nails the manipulative addict. I made a note to look up the actress playing Deidre with such compelling authenticity – and it is director Lynn Shelton herself.
There’s a real life heartbreak, too. Lynne Shelton and Marc Maron were partners, in a relatively early stage of their relationship, when they made this movie in 2019. Within a year, Shelton died suddenly of acute myeloid leukemia. The two were working on another screenplay.
Back to Sword of Trust – the entire cast is good, especially Dan Bakkedahl (Life in Pieces) as the White supremacist kingpin and prolific character actor Toby Huss as his henchman.
Sword of Trust is a very smart and funny comedy with a bonus – a rich and moving character study. You can buy the stream for $12.99 from Amazon, AppleTV, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play, and it’s well worth it.