Chandler Levack was 27 years old when she started writing the story she couldn’t stop thinking about. The Montreal indie music scene she’d once called home was years behind her now, and Levack — then a film and music critic — sat down to excavate the summer she was 24, which she chasing scenes, boys in bands and something she hadn’t quite named yet. Twelve years later, she’s 39, has a celebrated debut feature behind her and now her most personal protagonist is finally getting introduced to the world.
“The longer I wrote the script — the more drafts I did, the farther I got — the more self-flagellating the movie became,” Levack tells Variety. “It got more complex and way more personal.”
The result is “Mile End Kicks,” Levack’s semi-autobiographical movie which opens in theaters April 17. Barbie Ferreira stars as Grace, a 24-year-old music critic who leaves Toronto for a shimmering, bohemian Montreal summer, ostensibly to research a book about Alanis Morissette’s “Jagged Little Pill.” What she’s really doing is harder to articulate — something about approval, belonging and the specific ache of being a woman on the periphery of a male-dominated creative world.
The film considers questions such as: “Why do women date guys in bands? Is it because we want to be a guy in a band?” Levack says the line came from somewhere she’d spent years not wanting to look. “There’s this thing where so much of my life has been defined by needing male approval and validation,” she says. “I’d been denying for so long what that experience was actually like for me — how much that strange sense of tokenization, of desperately parroting everyone else’s opinions about music and writing and culture, had shaped what I think the meaning of art even is. Admitting it was a dark secret I didn’t want to acknowledge.”
That reckoning came to a head, during a scene she describes as the film’s most painful to shoot: Grace on the outside of a semi-circle of men, hovering near a cubicle while they talk music among themselves. “Something inside of me just completely broke,” Levack says. “I went right back to being 22. I had been denying for so long how much that experience had actually cost me.”
Levack first heard “Jagged Little Pill” at age eight, in her mother’s minivan when she was too young to understand “You Oughta Know,” but old enough to feel like it was describing her future. The more she researched Morissette’s story, the stranger and more apt the parallels became. “I found archival footage where her music producer is patting her on the head,” Levack says. “We’d shot a scene just a few days before where Jay Baruchel’s character does the exact same thing to Grace. Exactly the same way.”
Levack finished the film while simultaneously directing “Roommates,” a Happy Madison comedy starring Sadie Sandler and Chloe East as college roommates who turn from unlikely friends to arch enemies over the course of their freshman year. The project came together after Adam Sandler saw her 2022 debut “I Like Movies” and called her agents. The day after she read the script, Sandler called her personally, and two days after that, Levack was on a plane to Los Angeles.
“He truly believed in me,” she says of Sandler. “I don’t know how you look at “I Like Movies,” a film that literally doesn’t even have lights, and think that person is capable of directing a $30 million feature.”
Both films open on Friday — “Roommates” is streaming on Netflix and “Mile End Kicks” in theaters. Below Levack spoke with Variety about excavating her own memories, why Morissette felt like a ‘through line for everything’ and what she learned from working with Sandler.
This script for “Mile End Kicks” has been with you for 10 years. What was the original impulse?
I’d been a music critic and a film critic for so long, and I’d made some music videos, but I hadn’t felt like I’d made anything that was reflective of my own voice as a writer — and the kinds of movies I really love, which are rom-coms and hangout movies. So it was me trying to do my take on “Reality Bites,” “Dazed and Confused,” “Almost Famous.” And using this very cinematic summer I had in 2011 in Montreal, at the height of the music scene there, as a backdrop. I took the foundation of a rom-com screenplay structure and put my own personal experiences on top of it. And the longer I wrote the script — the more drafts I did, the farther I got — the more self-flagellating the movie became. It got more complex and way more personal.
How did you find the balance between excavating memory and fictionalizing it for film?
I just showed the movie in New York, and a lot of my friends from college who were in Montreal with me that summer came to the screening. They said it was like an uncanny valley — “It’s kind of bizarre, like seeing Barbie, she has your walk, and she’s walking into the dépanneur where we all used to get beer.” I think that’s the interesting exercise of filmmaking: you investigate your own memories, but you also ask, what’s actually cinematic about this? What makes this more painful and truthful? Is this interesting just to me, or is there something of real cinematic value here?
Alanis Morissette is practically a character in this film. When did she become the throughline?
“Jagged Little Pill” was the album I heard when I was eight years old, in my mom’s minivan. I immediately became obsessed with that record and begged her to buy it for me at Best Buy. I would just listen to it over and over. It just felt so powerful — even though I didn’t relate to “You Oughta Know” at eight years old, it sounded like my future somehow. Alanis was in the script from the very beginning. And as the script developed, the more research I did about her — especially learning about her story before she made “Jagged Little Pill” — the more her journey ran uncannily parallel to Grace’s. There’s this one shot I found of archival footage where her music producer is patting her on the head, and we’d shot a scene just a few days before where Jay Baruchel’s character does the exact same thing to Grace. Exactly the same way. So yeah, it always felt like Alanis was the through line for everything.
The film draws comparisons to “Almost Famous.” Are you happy about that?
That movie is like the most foundational piece of art in my life. I became a music critic because of “Almost Famous.” I think I became a filmmaker because of “Almost Famous.” I think I became a human being because of “Almost Famous.” It means everything to me.
Grace has this line — “Why do women date guys in bands? Is it because we want to be a guy in a band?” — that kind of stops the whole movie. Where did that come from?
I think it’s about gender envy, honestly. There’s this thing where so much of my life has been defined by needing male approval and validation. I’d been, like, denying for so long in my life what that experience was actually like for me. How much I thought I was a peer, just like everybody else — equals — but how much that strange sense of tokenization, of desperately parroting everyone else’s opinions and feelings and instincts about music and writing and culture, had shaped what I think the meaning of art even is. I’m trying to get myself out of that way of thinking and it’s really hard. Admitting it was a dark secret I didn’t want to acknowledge.
What was the most painful scene to shoot?
The semi-circle scene — where Grace is just watching those guys talk about the music and she’s sort of propped up on a cubicle, just outside the circle. I was completely fine shooting every other scene in the movie. And then we started shooting that one, and something inside of me just completely broke. I went right back to being 22. I had been denying for so long how much that experience had actually cost me.
You’ve talked about loving messy protagonists. Why is that important to you?
I don’t like the idea that a good protagonist has to be a blank slate that any audience member can identify with — somebody who’s only charming and nice, no flaws, engineered in a lab to be likable. Those kinds of protagonists don’t deserve a movie. They’re already healed. Why do we want to go on a hero’s journey with them? I like people who are messy and flawed and complicated and selfish and too much. I guess because that’s how I am.
How did Barbie Ferreira come to you for Grace?
I’ve always thought she was an extraordinary actor and a star — a real leading lady. I loved her on “Euphoria.” But my editor was at South by Southwest and had just seen “Bob Trevino Likes It,” and she texted me: “Chandler, you have to see this movie. I think this is Grace. We found her. Don’t talk to anybody else.” She said she knew it within five seconds — Barbie’s trying to send a text message and she’s hysterically weeping. So I tracked down a link to the film and I was completely floored. There’s one scene where her voice just catches in her throat, and I paused the movie and I cried for 10 minutes. We had a mutual friend, Daniel Goldhaber, who connected us. I flew to L.A., we talked for an hour, and by the end of it it was just very clear to both of us that she was going to star in the movie.
Where do you think Grace is now, post-film?
Realistically? Grace is probably managing the social media page for, like, a home goods company right now. She’s probably not working in journalism anymore. But I’d love to do a sequel set in the winter, six months later, picking up with those characters. I just hope she’s still staying vulnerable, keeping her heart open, making mistakes. It just never gets easier. I make films to understand different areas of my life — I’d love to make one next about my 30s.
You were editing this film while simultaneously directing “Roommates” for Happy Madison. How did that even happen?
I was editing “Mile End Kicks” when my agents at WME called and asked who I most wanted to work with in the entire world. I said Adam Sandler. They said, “Yeah, well, he saw ‘I Like Movies.’” I was like, what are you talking about? They said he loved it, that he had this project starring his oldest daughter Sadie, written by incredible SNL writers. Read the script, if you like it, he’ll call you tomorrow. I read it five seconds later. The next day Adam Sandler called, and I couldn’t believe it. We talked for an hour and just really hit it off. Two days later I was flying to L.A. to meet him at a hotel in Beverly Hills. My mom said it was just like “Pretty Woman” — well, in a way. Not quite the same sort of thing.
What did working with Sandler teach you?
He just really helped me recognize my potential as a filmmaker. He truly believed in me — I don’t know how you look at “I Like Movies,” a film that literally doesn’t even have lights, and think that person is capable of directing a $30 million feature. But what’s so wonderful about Adam as a collaborator and a producer is that he just really puts his faith and trust in people. He gave me the best comedy education I’ve ever had in my life. And I think it’s so cool that Happy Madison has a movie starring Sadie that I directed and another one coming out, “Don’t Say Good Luck,” written and directed by Julie Hart. He really cares what his daughters think is cool and cinematic and interesting and funny. He just wants to tell stories for young women to see themselves in. And I think that’s amazing.
