Indie movies usually disappear. They hit a few festivals, get a limited run in a city you don’t live in, and then vanish into the digital ether of "suggested for you" rows. But Year of the Carnivore is different. It sticks. Released in 2009 and directed by Sook-Yin Lee, this film isn't just another quirky Canadian comedy about a girl who can't get her life together. It’s a messy, sweaty, and deeply cringe-inducing exploration of sexual inadequacy that feels remarkably ahead of its time.
Honestly, watching it feels like reading someone’s private, slightly embarrassing diary.
The story follows Sammy Smalls, played by Cristin Milioti long before she was the "Mother" or trapped in Palm Springs. Sammy works as a "grocery store detective"—which is basically just a fancy way of saying she catches shoplifters—and she’s hopelessly in love with a scruffy street musician named Eugene. The problem? Eugene tells her she’s bad at sex. Not just "not great," but "clinical." Most movies would turn this into a slapstick montage. Sook-Yin Lee turns it into a quest for carnal knowledge that is as heartbreaking as it is hilarious.
What Year of the Carnivore Gets Right About Human Clumsiness
Most romantic comedies treat sex like a choreographed dance. It’s all soft lighting and perfect angles. Year of the Carnivore treats sex like a plumbing accident. It’s loud, it’s awkward, and sometimes it just doesn't work. Sammy’s decision to "practice" on older men to gain experience is a plot point that would probably be scrutinized much more heavily in today’s social climate, but within the vacuum of the film, it serves a specific purpose: it highlights the desperation of wanting to be "enough" for someone else.
Sammy is a shoplifting detective who can't see the theft of her own self-esteem.
The film relies heavily on Milioti’s expressive face. She has these massive, saucer-like eyes that broadcast every ounce of her internal panic. When she’s stalking the aisles of the grocery store, she looks like a predator, but as soon as she’s around Eugene (played by Mark Rendall), she shrinks. It’s a duality that anyone who has ever felt "less than" in a relationship will recognize instantly.
The Sook-Yin Lee Influence
You can’t talk about this movie without talking about Sook-Yin Lee. She’s a Canadian icon—a former MuchMusic VJ, a musician, and a filmmaker who famously starred in John Cameron Mitchell’s Shortbus. Because of her history with Shortbus, people expected Year of the Carnivore to be explicit or purely provocative. It isn’t. Instead, Lee uses her experience with bold storytelling to create something that feels tactile. You can almost smell the grocery store produce and the stale beer in the clubs where Eugene plays.
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Lee’s direction is jagged. She uses animation sequences and surreal flourishes to break up the realism. It’s a gutsy move. Sometimes it works, sometimes it feels a bit "indie-standard," but it always feels intentional. She wasn't trying to make a blockbuster; she was trying to capture a specific type of female neurosis that rarely gets screen time without being sanitized.
The Supporting Cast and the "Canadianness" of it All
There is a specific flavor to Canadian indie cinema. It’s usually a bit drier, a bit more self-deprecating, and significantly more comfortable with silence than American films. Year of the Carnivore leans into this. The supporting cast, including Kevin McDonald (of Kids in the Hall fame) and Sheila McCarthy, brings a level of grounded absurdity to Sammy’s home life.
Her parents are weird. Not "movie weird," where they have one quirky trait, but actually, uncomfortably weird. They represent the origin story of Sammy’s social stuntedness.
- Eugene (Mark Rendall): He’s the quintessential "indie boy." He’s charming but aloof, the kind of guy who uses his vulnerability as a shield so he doesn't have to actually commit to anything.
- The Shoplifters: These minor characters provide the backdrop for Sammy’s professional life, showing that everyone is trying to take something they haven't earned.
- The "Practice" Partners: These encounters are the hardest to watch. They are transactional and hollow, which is exactly the point Lee is trying to make about Sammy’s misplaced priorities.
Why the Title Actually Matters
The "Carnivore" in the title isn't about eating meat. Well, not literally. It’s about hunger. Sammy is starving for connection, for validation, and for a sense of agency over her own body. For most of the film, she’s a scavenger, picking up the scraps of affection Eugene throws her way. Her journey toward becoming a "carnivore" is really just a journey toward taking what she wants instead of waiting for permission to exist.
It’s a coming-of-age story for someone who has already technically come of age.
We see Sammy struggle with the idea that sex is a skill to be mastered rather than an emotion to be shared. This is a common misconception, especially in your early twenties. You think if you just read enough articles or "practice" enough, you’ll be "good." The movie eventually dismantles this idea, but it lets Sammy—and the audience—wallow in the mistake for a long time first.
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Critical Reception and Legacy
When it premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), reviews were mixed but intrigued. Critics praised Milioti—who was a relative unknown at the time—calling her a "revelation." Some found the tone inconsistent. Is it a dark comedy? A coming-of-age drama? A surrealist experiment?
The answer is yes. It’s all of those.
In the years since its release, Year of the Carnivore has found a bit of a cult following among fans of "mumblecore" and Canadian art-house cinema. It’s often cited in discussions about Sook-Yin Lee’s multifaceted career, and it remains a touchstone for Cristin Milioti fans who want to see her early work before she became a household name.
Technical Details You Might Actually Want to Know
If you're looking to track this down, it’s helpful to know the basics. It was produced by B-Side Pictures and Screen Siren Pictures. The soundtrack is also worth noting; it features music from Sook-Yin Lee herself and Adam Litovitz, which adds to the intimate, DIY feel of the whole project.
The cinematography by Bruce Chun captures the suburban gloom of British Columbia perfectly. It doesn't look like the postcard version of Canada. It looks like the Canada where people live in basement suites and work jobs they hate.
- Director: Sook-Yin Lee
- Writer: Sook-Yin Lee
- Runtime: 88 minutes
- Release Year: 2009 (Canada)
Common Misconceptions About the Movie
People often confuse this film with horror movies because of the word "Carnivore." It is definitely not a horror movie. There are no cannibals. There are no monsters—unless you count the monster of social anxiety.
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Another misconception is that it’s a "sex comedy" in the vein of American Pie. If you go in expecting raunchy gags and high-fives, you’re going to be very disappointed (or maybe just very confused). The "humor" here is painful. It’s the kind of funny that makes you want to pull your shirt over your head and hide. It’s more in line with something like Welcome to the Dollhouse or Lady Bird than a traditional Hollywood comedy.
How to Watch and What to Look For
Finding Year of the Carnivore today can be a bit of a treasure hunt depending on your streaming region. It pops up on platforms like Kanopy (which you can access with a library card) or specialized indie streamers.
When you do watch it, pay attention to the grocery store scenes. The way Sammy observes people is a mirror of how the audience observes her. We are all "detectives" trying to figure out the secret rules of being a person.
Lessons from Sammy Smalls
What can we actually take away from this 15-year-old indie flick?
First, stop treating your personal growth like a checklist. Sammy thinks she can "solve" her problems by performing tasks, but her real growth only happens when she stops performing. Second, the people we put on pedestals (like Eugene) are usually just as lost as we are, they’re just better at hiding it behind a guitar and a brooding stare.
Finally, recognize that being "bad" at something—whether it's sex, your job, or just being a human—is often the first step toward being okay at it. The awkwardness is the point.
Actionable Steps for Indie Film Enthusiasts
To get the most out of your viewing of Year of the Carnivore, consider these steps:
- Watch Sook-Yin Lee’s earlier work: Understanding her background in Shortbus and her music career gives much-needed context to her directorial choices here.
- Compare it to modern "Cringe Comedy": Watch an episode of Fleabag or Girls and see how Year of the Carnivore paved the way for those "unlikable" but deeply relatable female protagonists.
- Support Local Independent Film: Check out the National Film Board of Canada (NFB) or Telefilm Canada projects. Movies like this only get made because of grants and a commitment to non-commercial storytelling.
- Look for the Soundtrack: Track down the music by Adam Litovitz. It’s a hauntingly beautiful accompaniment to the film’s themes of isolation and longing.
The film ends not with a "happily ever after," but with a "finally started." Sammy doesn't necessarily get everything she wanted, but she finally understands what she actually needs. That’s a much more honest ending than most movies are willing to give you.