possibleblonde

[possibleblonde]

My Thoughts on Poor Things

This movie was beautiful, and I was mesmerized by nearly every shot; oddly enough, the wide-angle and fish eye shots were my favorite. The unique landscape and vibrant, contrasted world was incredible to see. In some ways the world reminded me of Beau is Afraid, though with a little more garnish whimsy and less outright terror. The fashion, the cinematography, the settings, the score oh my god; technically, this movie is one of my all time favorites

Mark Ruffalo’s character was incredible and he should receive every accolade for his performance. Though I did find it funny to lean over to my sister and say “Hulk SMASH” every time he got into a fight, his embodiment of the character at play was perfect; he felt truly tangible throughout the story. By far, he was my favorite character in the entire movie (his actions despicable, his moral compass disgusting, his arc so fun and nearly theater-esque—“BELLAAA” was one of my favorite scenes, and one I wish lingered longer)

Similarly, Emma Stone’s performance was indescribable. Her physicality and embodiment of Bella was unlike something I’ve ever seen. She was completely believable at every stage in Bella’s journey, and her movement reflected that. Bella’s growing up was so subtle, yet noticeable all at once; by the end of the movie, it was hard to remember where it began.

I can appreciate the subtextual critique of the Born Sexy Yesterday trope, and the feminist themes for what they are. Overall, it was satisfying to see Bella “win” at the end of the day and take control of her narrative. 

However, however.

This trope, this story, is such a unique and powerful metaphor for what women, what girls, go through in their life and in coming to terms with their sexuality, and I was so disappointed by the narrative the movie ended up pushing.

It was so heavy handed at moments when it wanted us to understand what it was trying to tell. When Bella was at the Brothel, after she saw the cruelty in Alexandria, the characters’ practically told us what they wanted us to hear; we nearly had fourth-wall breaks in some of the emotional climaxes of the story.

I wish, I wish, that at any point—towards the end, when Bella learned what she was, towards the beginning, with the proposal of marriage, in the middle, in the climax, during the end credits—that it was a little more directly addressed that these men were in love with a child. Perhaps the absurdity of Mark Ruffalo’s character and his satirical fall to madness, his comedic portrayal and garish nature, was meant as a metaphor to laugh at these men for falling in love with a child. Yet, her true final husband, God’s assistant, is shown in an entirely sympathetic, forgiving and nearly hero-istic light, but he had no qualms with sleeping with her as a child. No, he had issue with sleeping with her out of wedlock. And she is forgiving, understanding, and loving of him (maybe because he doesn’t just love her for her body—but still).

Maybe it is from personal experience, from my own traumatic dealings with sexual assault at a younger age, of my body being treated older than I was in mind, that I find such fault with the message (that I ultimately took away) of “women should be allowed to do what they want with their bodies” and “men should not take advantage of women and treat them as things to be had”. It was a story of one women’s fight for her autonomy; yet at the end, she had no anger, no rage nor hate; she was told by her employer at the brothel that this was the way of things, essentially; she does say at one point that she feels rage—but I don’t think we saw any of that. I think we saw a young woman having a lot of sex in a shitty situation and coming to terms with it, and eventually, making her own way in the world and getting revenge in the ways she could. 

But I wanted to see her cut Mark Ruffalo’s dick off. I wanted to see her scream. I wanted to see her cry tears for her body. I wanted to see her feel something—anything—for the way her autonomy had been taken from her in a tangible way once she came to understand it.

Maybe that was Yorgos’s attempt in the third act, but it was so heavy handed it nearly felt absurd (and not in a good way)—her old husband tried to mutilate her, she turned him into a goat. Girl Power.

This story had such a ripe metaphor for grooming and the sexual exploitation of young girls that it was bursting at the seams. It’s essential to her character the moment she first meets Ruffalo. It is part of her journey, part of her growth; rarely is it addressed directly by the film.

This movie could have been radical, could have been bolder and braver in its message; it had all the makings to do so. It could have been such a moving and empathetic story about the exploitation of young women, of how men have oft viewed girls, of the pain and anger and betrayal of being groomed. And yet, in the third act, it fell flat in the name of a feministic tale it feels has been told through movies throughout time—Barbie, this year, or even Emma Stone’s Easy A. And while these stories are not at fault for their message, and their themes should be shown and are valuable as they are, this movie just had so much potential to do more.

Maybe it is my fault for identifying with aspects of Bella’s character that I felt unexplored. Perhaps it is my undoing that I saw my trauma in hers, that I wanted her to feel the pain that I did when I came to terms with my own experiences. It is possible that I have asserted myself onto Bella, in a lack of feeling that these stories have not been shown so brutally and honestly (as they could’ve been here) before.

Yet I feel it is undeniable that women who have been groomed can watch this movie without seeing Bella, in many ways, as a metaphor of themselves. And it is hurtful that her trauma was left with passive acceptance and forgiveness by all who were there to witness it, that only a man in her past life (a life we did not see) faced true consequence, that at no point in the movie, like other messages, was it directly addressed. Had other themes not been outwardly spoken by the characters so obviously, maybe I would be more forgiving that this one was left to be pieced together.

It is a beautiful and wonderful film that should be awarded for what it is. But I am disappointed for what it could’ve been, and for that it feels hollow. It saddens me more that this metaphor now feels as though it has been used up by this story when it could have been explored for so much more. And now I am left with the feeling that it is my bearing to forgive what I have endured; in many ways this is true, but I somehow leave feeling guilty all the same.

In the end, I am grateful to have watched Poor Things. I would recommend it to the occasionally sexist film buff friend. But I would not recommend it to my youngest sister; though for her, I hope she can watch it and never feel the same as I did.