"Frozen River": a bleak tale with a breakthrough performance

In Courtney Hunt's fine, grim drama "Frozen River," heroes and lawbreakers mingle together, sometimes wearing the same careworn face. Set in a small, snowbound town just off the Canadian border in upstate New York, the film has at its center two women: both mothers, both impoverished. Movies are rarely made about such people; Hunt's film, as tautly structured as a thriller, makes us wonder why.

Ray (Melissa Leo) has two sons, a dead-end job at a dollar store (one of the few employers in town) and a husband who ran off with the money she's been saving for a double-wide trailer. She drives a beat-up car filled with Coke cans and cigarette butts, and she works hard at giving the impression that she doesn't care. It's nearly Christmas, with no money for presents — the present would have been the new home — and her boys are brave yet heartbroken as they sit down to a meal of popcorn and Tang.

But opportunity knocks, in the stoical person of Lila (Misty Upham), a young woman from the neighboring Mohawk reservation. She's figured out how to make extra money by ferrying illegal immigrants across the border — and she needs Ray as a partner. Though the women take an instant dislike to each other, the partnership is necessary. Lila has the connections; Ray has the car and another crucial element: the face. State troopers, Lila explains, are less likely to stop a car driven by a white woman.

Leo, who's quietly made a reputation in vivid but small roles ("21 Grams," "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada"), carries the movie on Ray's tired shoulders. Early on, there's a brief scene in which Ray struggles to put on mascara while she's crying, and Leo makes the moment touching without being the slightest bit sentimental. Her face seems taut and perpetually braced against bad news; her eyes look like they've seen it all and don't want to see any more. Upham, whose Lila has secrets the film gradually reveals, makes her character more remote: Lila's built a wall, and she's not about to let Ray look over it.

Hunt, who originally made "Frozen River" as a short film (you can tell that these meticulously detailed characters have been with her for a long time), ultimately pulls off something near-miraculous: Though this is one of the grimmest films you'll see this year, it's not depressing. Instead, it's an inspiring demonstration of the power low-budget filmmaking can have, when it's done right — and a celebration of Leo, who's long been waiting for a spotlight.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725

or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com