For five years, I lived within a short walk of Aurora Ave. in North Seattle. And for five years, my wife and I watched the prostitutes and drug addicts proliferate, just blocks from otherwise “upstanding neighborhoods” where not only middle class but affluent families went about their days. So, needless to say, Sweetheart Deal, a documentary about four Aurora hookers and Elliott, the “Mayor of Aurora,” caught my eye.

I was expecting a detailed depiction of life on the streets and was hoping for something that examined the admittedly very colorful figures I witnessed nearly every day (trust me, some very colorful figures). 

Sweetheart Deal isn’t that kind of film. 

While filmmakers Elisa Levine and Gabriel Miller attempt to showcase what things are like as prostitutes in Seattle, they focus more heavily on portraying their four subjects as people deserving the same respect and safety as anyone else. Admittedly, while there’s nothing wrong with that approach and Levine and Miller do a fine job “humanizing” these women, it’s not the kind of focus that personally resonates with me.

I started to lose interest in the middle, but then Sweetheart Deal takes a dark and rather stunning turn that makes the documentary moderately compelling. It’s a twist you don’t see coming (unless you read the film’s synopsis, which I hadn’t, or knew the story from the news), and one that raises the stakes for the women, and the film itself.

Sweetheart Deal feels like a “local” documentary, because it is. There’s nothing wrong with that, but those attuned to the more sensational storytelling you find on Netflix and other major streamers may find the straightforward format a little burdensome. I would have liked to see Levine and Miller tighten up the storytelling some, perhaps even do a little more telling than showing. 

Nonetheless, kudos to these two for their feature debut; if you too, like me, have lived in the presence of Seattle’s hookers and drug addicts, Sweetheart Deal may help you experience some much-needed compassion for these women. Who are daughters. Sisters. Mothers. People.

This film is playing at SIFF 2022.

 

Review by Erik Samdahl unless otherwise indicated.