Sean Parker
Have you ever left a movie theater with your head swirling from the film you just witnessed? That is how I would describe Hemet, or the Land Lady Don’t Drink Tea, the latest film from director Tony Olmos and writer Brian Patrick Butler. A few years back, Butler wrote and directed the black-and-white COVID satire movie Friend of the World, deeply embedding some of the concerns of civil unrest people were facing at the time with the story of a disturbed man in an underground bunker. Butler and Olmos bring the same brand of crude humor and brilliant satire above ground to satirize new concerns in 2024. Some still deal with issues brought about by COVID, but if you can’t already tell by the title, the housing crisis is on the menu in the small desert California town of Hemet.
The film starts with Martin (Merrick McCartha) and Gary (Matthew Rhodes) sitting on picnic tables in their apartment complex’s front yard and conversing about the Zombie-like migration through the arid and deserted outback surrounding them. Through them, the audience learns that these are people affected by an epidemic of harmful drugs that have turned the addicted masses into bath salt-fiending cannibals. Then, their conversation drifts into another topic: Their horrible landlady, Liz (Butler). Their ruminations of the horrific conditions on the streets have led them to conclude they may be paying too much for rent when to be living in a place where people have had their legs eaten down to stumps, that is until Liz arrives to up Gary’s rent and kick Martin, a black man, out because she basically can.
Rosie (Kimberly Weinberger) witnesses the altercation, brownnosing her way to rent reduction while Gary’s temper helps him incur a new monthly penalty. But Rosie’s loyalty only provides more headaches as Liz’s daughter Kate (Aimee La Joie) needs a place to stay and will need her parking space, forcing Liz to relocate to the dark, unsafe, addict-overrun part of the lot. Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea, then turns into a Coen Brothers film as the residents begin plotting to overthrow their landlady overlord in a cleverly convoluted plot that’s chock full of twists and surprises. Just when you think you know how it’s going to play out, Butler’s script supersedes the inclination and takes viewers down a chaotic avenue of grisly murder and mayhem.
Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea, begins slightly jarring as it contends to set up a large cast of characters, a muted apocalypse, and the residents caught in the middle of a corrupt profiteer. This will be the most challenging part for some viewers to digest, as there are many character shifts and dialogue. Luckily, Butler is equipped to deal with the many moving parts, so Hemet is never uninteresting. The film is set up like modern-day Shakespeare, specifically the Henriad titles (Richard II, Henry VIII, etc) with a dash of Macbeth. Liz’s ineffective leadership results in the residents being pushed to their limits and plotting to overthrow her tyrannical rule. I can’t imagine anything more satirical right now than equating kings and kingdoms to landlords and their buildings.
Loyalties and quid-pro-quos are distinctly on the menu here, and they certainly harbor some backhanded resentment of recent political events. The film is grimly sarcastic, but if people only look at the surface, they will surely miss the subtext. There are double-crosses, assassination plots, and kidnapping, but despite the clear over-the-top plot points and character attributes, even when you realize it is Butler dawning prosthetics to play elderly landlady Liz.
I suspect Butler wanted to deliver the dialogue in the near Sorkin fast-paced manner it’s presented, much like Divine dishes out rhetoric as Dawn Davenport in John Waters’ films. Yet, for as ardently absurd as everything is, the film doesn’t come across that way. At least, not at first. Hemet holds steady until Liz hatches a scheme to permanently evict her tenants and start over. When Liz’s sanity comes into question, on the verge of having her power taken away, the movie comes together by asking you to accept more and more lunacy. This makes Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea, a uniquely dark and hilarious political satire right up until the very end.
Visually, I think Hemet struggles with some budget limitations, but not enough to hurt the film. Butler’s script is largely on display, and to call it anything but audacious is doing it a disservice. However, some of the early scenes could have benefitted from better atmosphere. At times this means wider angles, other times it’s lighting. This is, without a doubt, a nitpick, as it is difficult to create anything when the production cost is less than a used car (about 29,000, according to IMDB). Still, the concept is achieved so fantastically that you want to see a film like Hemet succeed at every level.
Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea won’t be for everyone, the clear parallels between current topical issues such as immigration, homelessness, and drug smuggling are all poised outside of insurmountable housing prices, where the rhetoric is, “if you don’t like it go somewhere else.” Christ, all Olmos and Butler needed to do was add someone on the news saying, “They’re eating the legs!” to really drive it home. But for those struggling with post-election depression and aren’t afraid of some brazenly dark humor, I suggest seeking this one out. It’s a wild ride that’s intelligently executed.
Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea, is currently available on PVOD from BayView Entertainment.
Hemet, or the Landlady Don’t Drink Tea | Horror Comedy Dystopian Satire | Red Band Official Trailer
The landlady is coming home to video on demand November 26th! A tyrannical landlady in Hemet, California lords it over her tenants during an epidemic, pitting them against each other in a web of paranoia spun for deadly results.
