Those hazy memories of youth, some good, some bad and others in that indecipherable grey area, are deftly brought to light in Phoebe Wood’s searingly painful short ‘My First Time was in a Car Park’. Her Brighton-made short film, based on an award-winning theatre piece, is a heartbreakingly reflective look at one of the most formative moments in a woman’s life, the loss of her virginity. But Wood does not reminisce on a fumble with a fellow inexperienced teenager, but instead offers a harrowing account of abuse and power manipulation – something which happens, sadly, all too often.
“She doesn’t necessarily see herself as a victim – there is a moment where, to camera, she asks the viewer if they think she is cruel, as she pities her abuser. Mira invites the viewer to experience what it is like in her mind; through direct address, reflection, abstractions and fantasy, with the aim of providing the viewer with an insight and understanding of her experience.’
The editing is so key to this film, especially in the first half which accurately reflects the truncated memories and the trauma of the experience. We cut back and forth from different locations, all devoid of happy crowds, as our young narrator takes us through her memories. Cutting from the beach to meandering paths with one sharp arresting break, we feel disoriented. This feeling is further solidified by loud and purposeful flashbacks. Like our protagonist, we get no reprieve.
The delivery of the monologue, initially written for theatre, works perfectly as actor Molly-Rose Treves takes us through an impressive roster of feelings. We experience defiance, incredulity, agony and pain in quick succession. As the camera tracks her pacing through streets, wading into a dark sea and, for one exquisite moment, breaking the fourth wall and asking the audience a haunting question, we are in her mind, in her memories.
The bizarre and surreal additions of a supposedly omnipotent and benevolent God and our protagonist laying in a bath of tomatoes in a scene reminiscent of American Beauty momentarily take away from the sheer horror of the story being recounted. They are a welcome relief to what is being recounted, but also serve to foreground the nature of trauma and how someone might deal with this kind of event.
I want to see more films like this from young emerging voices and I must commend Wood for creating the film as part of an outreach project based in Brighton to help young people who have struggled with some of the themes explored in this piece.
“It’s not my fault, is it?” – No, it isn’t
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