Shelter (2015)

Jennifer Connelly plays a homeless New Yorker in "Shelter."

Coming as newspapers blare headlines about a New York City shelter system in such chaotic disarray that many of the city’s homeless would actually rather stay outside on the streets after dark rather than spending a hellish night inside—where belongings are often stolen and arguments among residents, many mentally ill, frequently lead to fights, stabbings and sometimes far worse—seems eerily timely for “Shelter,” the debut film by writer-director Paul Bettany.

The movie is mostly a sad, strange friendship between a homeless couple with similarly tragic histories—Tahir (Anthony Mackie), a melancholy immigrant from Nigeria whose wife and young son were casualties of war; and Hanna (Jennifer Connelly), a desperate, drug-addled woman whose world spiraled out of control when her husband, a soldier, was killed in battle.

At first, their connection is based less on attraction than a kind of mutual need. Their first significant encounter occurs one lonely night on the Brooklyn Bridge, when Tahir recognizes that Hannah is prepared to end it all with a final plunge into the murky East River. They begin an uneasy alliance after that, roaming the city in search of a handout or a place to stay.

When Hannah encounters an unlocked door on the roof of a building, the couple is afforded an extended, furtive stay in a posh apartment whose owners are away on vacation. Presented with the same opportunity, the typical intruder might grab as many valuables as possible and cash in at the nearest pawn shop. What this couple does instead—taking a hot shower, having a meal, sleeping in a clean bed—underlines the type of basic facilities and human dignity stripped from the everyday lives of the most poor.

While “Shelter” manages to be a stark and compelling chronicle of two people facing the cruel, daunting odds of life of the streets, it misses a chance to strike a more urgent note. Despite the title, very little of the action takes place in the cramped and violent shelters themselves; although Bettany does hint at the misplaced priorities of one facility during a scene in which Hannah, who has just missed curfew, is heartlessly turned away during dangerously cold weather.

Movies like this sometimes become a showcase for actors and Connelly (who is Bettany’s real life wife) shines, bravely throwing herself into a physically demanding and distinctly unglamorous role. Connelly seems genuinely fascinated with playing edgy, haunted characters—the hopelessly self-destructive addict of Darren Aronofsky’s brilliant “Requiem for a Dream”; the disillusioned foreclosure victim in “The House of Sand and Fog”—slowly slipping into nightmarish depths of pain and suffering.

The sad power in “Shelter” lies in the fact that there are many women—some elderly, frail and more vulnerable than Hannah—looking each day for a clue that society hasn’t forgotten them, hoping for a reason not to contemplate walking up to the edge of that bridge.