Outside the gas station is deserted, offering no assistance to the damp Mitchell. Wandering deeper into the building, his step is arrested by a glimpse of suffering; in the yard sits a school bus, battered as if from a terrible accident. Coincidentally this is the reason for Mitchell's presence in Sam Dent, where he aims to convince the grieving parents that a lawsuit is in their best interests. His next stop is the motel, run by Wendell (Maury Chaykin) and Risa Walker (Alberta Watson). Initially suspicious that he's a reporter, it doesn't take much to capture their attention. Soon they're spilling the beans on their neighbours, many of whom may be persuaded to join the lawsuit. From here, however, the driver Dolores Driscoll (Gabrielle Rose) is Mitchell's next contact.
Gradually Mitchell constructs a picture of a town in mourning, all touched in some way by the recent tragedy. Hartley (Earl Pastko) and Wanda Otto (Arsinée Khanjian) seem like a viable target, since they're college-educated and respected despite their hippy lifestyle. Their loss was Bear (Simon Baker), loved all the more for being adopted. In some contrast, Sam (Tom McCamus) and Mary Burnell (Brooke Johnson) still have their daughter Nicole (Sarah Polley). Unfortunately she was damaged beyond repair in the accident, leaving her with a lifetime of failed dreams and potential frustration. The Burnell's are unsurprisingly eager to sign up with Mitchell, placing them in direct conflict with family friend Billy Ansel (Bruce Greenwood). He sees past Mitchell's concern to the puppeteer beneath, a vision that taunts his own moral stance.
Slung between two parallel story threads, The Sweet Hereafter is directed and propelled by emotional trauma. The major storyline concerns an accident that takes away the school children of Sam Dent. Overtly paralleled by the tale of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, here too a cripple (Nicole) is left behind to suffer. The identity of the piper is, however, somewhat obscured; Sam fills this role in some respects, particularly when the spectre of incest is considered. Shot from Nicole's point of view, her violation is shorn of the expected pain - she is simply too confused to feel anything. Curiously this uncertainty is reflected in our perception of Mitchell; on one hand he is a lawsuit vampire, peddling a solution no one needs, while on the other he is the very human victim of fate. Perhaps this is where The Sweet Hereafter makes its mark - everyone here is real and vulnerable, easy to identify with and easy to pity.
While Atom Egoyan is not renowned for his empathy with community spirit, in The Sweet Hereafter he creates a truly believable habitation on the edge of the wilderness. Flitting back and forth in a highly non-linear fashion, the dynamics that underpin this society gradually emerge. Unfortunately there is a huge hole in this delicate web, doubly obvious when compared to life before the accident. While this is not shown until midway through the movie, and even then in removed fashion, its breathtaking impact is not diminished one iota. This is, however, partly a result of Egoyan's stunning juxtaposition of Mitchell relating the story of his daughter's close call with death over the top of the accident. Together these provide a powerful emotional double climax, dealing head-on with the death and near-death of children.
Carrying Russell Banks' novel to the screen, the cast does great things with their characters. Top of the list comes Holm, the central link in The Sweet Hereafter and as ambiguous as they come. His portrayal of a man torn and driven, stripped of love yet endlessly bound to it, is devastating. Matching his intensity, Greenwood is excellent as one of the few voices of sanity left in the town. He knows what they stand to lose and will do everything in his power to prevent this; it's only sheer luck that Polley, of similar mind, hears his plea. In one of the most difficult roles she acquits herself admirably, equally at ease with young and old. Also impressive are Rose and Khanjian, both more explicitly and appropriately emotional in their reactions. Together the players make a powerful combination.
Ultimately The Sweet Hereafter is consumed by the idea of coming to terms with tragedy by relying on friends, rather than suing strangers for ephemeral satisfaction. A point of some resonance in these litigious times, it's doubtful that those who engage in legal blackmail would ever wish to experience such a densely textured movie. Egoyan has no intention of making this an easy ride, either in comprehension or closure, yet the questions that he leaves open are the right ones; there are no one-line answers to these problems, merely a lifetime of denial or acceptance. For such bravery alone The Sweet Hereafter deserves attention.