May December
May December
Release Date: December 1, 2023
Runtime: 117 minutes
Rating: R
Studio: Netflix
Director: Todd Haynes
Cast: Natalie Portman; Julianne Moore; Charles Melton; Gabriel Chung; Elizabeth Yu; Charles Green; Cory Michael Smith
In a relationship, as with any social binary, there is always a dominant party. What feeds that pursuit of dominance, of power? Insecurity? Madness? Past trauma? Egotism? In his fascinating catalogue of work, director Todd Haynes (Far From Heaven, Carol) has always been one to present to his audience a controversial circumstance, then subsequently explore the dangerous consequences that result from such a circumstance. In his new Netflix drama, May December, the stunning acting threesome of (Haynes muse) Julianne Moore, Natalie Portman, and Charles MeltonJulianne Moore, create an alluring trifecta that ultimately leaves a sour aftertaste once one realizes that the balance of power is, and always has been, impossibly oblique.
If the story in May December evokes a sense of déjà vu, it’s because Moore’s Gracie is loosely based upon the notorious Mary Kay Letourneau, the 34-year-old teacher who sacrificed her marriage and family in order to have an affair with her 12-year-old student. This affair resulted in two children and a relationship that lasted over two decades and withstood more than one prison sentence served by Letourneau. Portman plays Elizabeth, a Hollywood actress who comes to Savannah, Georgia, to shadow Gracie and Melton’s Joe in the service of research for playing Gracie in an upcoming movie based upon their unusual love affair. I love this concept. It’s a wonderful jumping off point in which to do any thorough character study.
Elizabeth is kind, inquisitive, un-actressy and blends in well with Gracie’s family, which also includes three children, one in college and a pair of twins about to enter. She accompanies Gracie to her daughter’s graduation dress fitting, joins Gracie for flower arranging class, and does her best to probe acquaintances of the couple without being disrespectful. She meets with Gracie’s jilted husband and the former employer of the pet shop where the scandal ignited. These quiet “interview” scenes constitute some of Portman’s best work in a while and suit her well: understated, curious, gentle. There is a wonderful scene between Gracie and Elizabeth wherein Gracie is demonstrating her preferred makeup to Elizabeth and eventually decides to simply apply the makeup to the actress herself.
As Gracie, Moore is fabulous as always. There is an unaffectedness and earthiness in her portrayal of Gracie that makes it easy for one to see why everyone in town seems to think so highly of her, despite her status as a sex offender. However, a hallmark of Hayne’s brilliance is staging a seemingly idealized, almost Douglas Sirk-ian vision of a place and time, then slowly peeling back the layers to uncover the mold festering just below picture-perfect surface. Life can be ugly, messy, and warped…but who wants to live in a world that’s ugly, messy, and warped? You can try and conceal it, but the messiness is still there. Witness how much of May December, at least in the earlier portions of the film, are photographed almost as if through a layer of cheese cloth, giving everything a gauzy, dream-like countenance.
As the mentally and socially stunted Joe, Melton certainly makes a major impression here. He gives a startlingly effective and heart-wrenching performance in a difficult role. Melton wisely chooses softness and quietness, holding everything in and acting in subtleties until there can be no more; there comes a point when he has physical trouble allowing words to escape his mouth. Watch Melton’s face as the camera hangs on him as Gracie, Elizabeth, and Joe are having their first dinner and Gracie and Elizabeth are discussing the couple’s relationship. This kid is going places!
May December will remain with you and, like all good art, grants the spectator permission to confront uncomfortable situations as they abound in human nature. In doing so, the film fits snugly into Haynes’s cinematic canon of pretty poison.