Chris Leavins returns home to Nova Scotia for his sister's wedding a different man: Since his troubled childhood, he has lost 200 pounds and come out of the closet. Yet for all the changes he has experienced, Leavins discovers that his family is still the same dysfunctional mess he left behind. His father is an abusive drunk whose love is limited only to his well-tended flower garden, his grandmother is senile and incontinent, his mother is a passive punching bag, his sister is a foul-mouthed wise-ass, and the groom is an old friend who keeps coming on to him. Most curiously, everyone in the family seems to know they're screwed up, and the constant conflict surrounding Leavins is symbolized by the manifestation of a horrible vision of his younger and fatter self, hanging lifelessly near the garden for all to see. And, mysteriously, everyone sees the swinging, bloated corpse, which seems to be a part of everyday life. The Hanging Garden reflects the complexity and depth of good literature, steeped in humor, tragedy, and emotion. Beautifully composed with an eye for the colors of the all-important flower garden, the film also employs an interesting nominal premise: All of the characters are named after flowers in the garden and the time of year when they bloom, adding yet another surreal facet to the proceedings. Poetic and quietly quirky, The Hanging Garden is writer/director/producer Thom Fitzgerald's debut, and it's a fine one that shouldn't be overlooked.