You have to believe that change is possible. Even small ones. If we stop believing, we stop living. After Cindy Saunders' husband, Bobby, who suffers from a mental disorder, disappears, she and her son Philip do everything to find him. While searching, Cindy meets a homeless woman who opens her eyes to the unsightly side of life. Then the girl decides that she can help the people left on the street: on the eve of the winter cold, collect as many blankets as possible.
History is as simple as sushi. A young woman and her son collect blankets for the homeless. Nothing else is happening here, but it is not boring to watch. The authors then show the missing husband, then touch on the topic of school bullying, then again return to the homeless, their rejection by society and difficult fates. No blacks and tense tears, everything is neat, careful and smoothed. At the same time, there is no superhero pathos of a benefactor who races on a white horse with the help of everyone and everything. Blankets. Simple, primitive blankets. Pieces of fabric that save lives.
Cindy wasn’t born with angel wings and wasn’t going to help anyone. Moreover, she was prejudiced towards the homeless, like most people. The idea of collecting blankets was not hatched for years, but arose under the influence of one small episode and pure selfishness: after all, her missing husband is also somewhere out there, on the cold streets, and can freeze to death like an ordinary homeless person.
The film may seem imbued with religion, but it is not. Quite the opposite. The local pastor looks stupid and useless. And the heroine, engaged in a real business, stops attending services and directly says that God is not so kind, since she allowed her husband to leave.
What makes the story inspiring is not only the skill of the writers, but also the fact that the Philippe Desire movement actually exists. It was founded in 2005 and continues to help homeless people today by collecting more than just blankets. At the end of the film, you can even see Cindy Saunders herself.
The film does not press conscience, urging "privileged whites" to immediately drop a glass of Sotern and foie gras and rush to organize a fund to help all the disadvantaged. Perhaps the most he tries to do is to show the ugly underbelly of society that we usually turn a blind eye to. And it's unobtrusive to say that even one old wretched blanket can save someone's life.