‘May December’ Review: The Netflix Movie That Misrepresents Netflix’s True Crime

Todd Haynes has made a gorgeous, elegant, and darkly funny film for Netflix, and it’s about how much of Netflix’s true crime content can be inhumane garbage.

WITH May December, Haynes uses exciting bait. At first glance, the thriller, written by Sami Birch, looks like a Netflix docudrama ripped from the headlines. But with such prestigious talents as the illustrious Haynes (CarolFar from paradise) and Oscar winners Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore, moviegoers can rightly expect an arthouse rise in tabloid bad taste. And they will get it, and even more.

Burch and Haynes aren’t content with a stunning tale of power dynamics and abuse masquerading as love. Teaming up with their all-star cast, they bring a razor-sharp wit and ruthless attention to their audience and our insatiable thirst for true crime carnage, as well as those who feed it.

Is May December about the story of Mary Kay Letourneau?

At the press screening of the film during New York Film FestivalBirch sidestepped the comparison, jokingly suggesting that she was too young to remember the 1997 scandal. “I’m still a child,” she answered boldly, before adding“All such stories are on the air. They are completely embedded in each person’s cultural history.”

However, the similarities between Letourneau’s story and May December are not insignificant. In both cases, a thirty-something white American woman has sex with a seventh-grader, is convicted of rape, gives birth to a child in prison, and, after serving her sentence, marries the now grown boy. However, these similarities are not the point of the film.

May December The story takes place 20 years after Gracie Atherton (Julianne Moore) was caught in a pet store closet with Joe Yu (played as an adult by Charles Melton). They now live in a large house where they host barbecues for their neighbors and children, including twins finishing high school. Their lives seem relatively quiet, if you ignore the bags of human crap that show up on their doorstep and the loud taunts from Gracie’s adult son from her first marriage (Cory Michael Smith as the irritating – and rightfully so! – brother). But this relatively peaceful post-tabloid existence is disrupted when an actress intrudes, bent on turning their lives into provocative art.

Julianne Moore delivers a villainess performance for the ages.

Despite her lofty talk of exploration and love of “morally gray” roles, actress Elizabeth Berry (a grinning Natalie Portman) is best known for a TV series called Nora’s Ark, which is arguably about a veterinarian who solves crimes. Famous but far from luxurious, Elizabeth sees in Gracie’s performance a role that could change her professional status, turning her into a provocateur and a serious actress. Thus, Elizabeth carefully observes not only how this wife/mother/national disgrace moves and talks, but also how she subtly manipulates those around her.

Make no mistake. Although Haynes has told stories about misunderstood lovers before, in films such as Carol And Velvet goldminethat’s not his goal May December. Julianne Moore, who starred in Haynes’ film Safe And Far from paradise, Gracie crafts with a delicate façade. Dressed in beige and pale pink, this infamous woman has big doe eyes and speaks with a big, loving smile, whether she’s doting on her kids, finishing an elaborate cake, or facing hate mail.

But as Elizabeth watches, Gracie’s cunning manipulations sneak through the sweet glaze. While shopping for a prom dress with her teenage daughter Mary (Elizabeth Yu)—with Elizabeth in tow—Gracie mocks the girl as she removes a particular dress, chirping, “You’re so good show your hands like this.” Mary, who should be ashamed, chooses a more conservative dress that matches her mother’s vision. Later, behind closed doors, Gracie will force Joe to do her bidding, bursting into tears at the slightest disagreement. But even more slippery than these harsh comments or crocodile tears is her voice.

When talking about her love for Joe or her view of the world, Gracie has a strange lisp. It comes and goes, so you may not be able to track it at first. Some viewers may wonder if Moore has lost her touch, but the lisp is ruthlessly strategic. When Gracie remains unchallenged, it’s unnoticeable. When she refers to her naivety or presses with a smile, the lisp seems to soften her touch, like a velvet glove for her crushing force of personality.

Natalie Portman thunders like a satirical Hollywood nightmare.

Elizabeth witnesses many of Gracie’s attractive and passive-aggressive manipulations, drinking them in like fine wine. Throughout the film, she will imitate her movements, copy her style, and even take makeup lessons from Gracie. On the one hand, Portman is an illustration of how Hollywood feigns a high interest in true crime by projecting the idea that they build art out of tragedy and are therefore above its human side effects. But Elizabeth’s interest in Gracie is clearly selfish, crafting a role for herself so shocking that it’s sure to break her out of her boring TV box. It’s scandal as a social ladder on which Gracie’s family (and victims) – many of whom she interviews independently – are a means on which she steps without a second thought. Elizabeth is decidedly unconcerned with how Gracie’s children feel about this future film, and she treats Joe less like a person and more like an experiment for her research.

The cruelty of this psychological distancing turns into dark punchlines throughout the film, forcing May December’The audience is slyly complicit. Elizabeth shyly flirts with Joe to see what it’s like to “sneak” with him. Her conversations with the unseen producer range from inappropriate to lewd, such as when she complains that the child stars chosen to play a seventh-grader in her film “aren’t sexy enough.” There’s a ruthlessness here that Birch satirizes in his dialogue and that Portman nails with his jaded delivery. Elizabeth is obsessed with the gory details of the case, but is not emotionally involved. For her, all this is at a distance – and we can laugh, because for us there is a distance.

In it, Haynes and Birch expressed their condemnation of the true crime audience that craves endless stories of human depravity, and the studios that line them up as a buffet – as Netflix does.

May December satirizes the high art concept of true crime.

This narrative film could be classified as a true crime film like Netflix. Dahmer; Extremely evil, shockingly evil and vile; Inventing Anna; Observeror Woman of the Hour – dramas in which the criminal is investigated with hidden excitement. But such a comparison would do a disservice May December, and not just because collapsing Elizabeth’s narrative creates a protective layer separating it from being “based on a true story.” Elizabeth becomes the fulcrum through which the story moves from rehashing the horrifying details of a real crime to criticizing the genre. In fact, these details are largely glossed over by a quick glance at the tabloid headlines and a brief conversation around the kitchen table.

Instead of, May December becomes immersed in the public’s admiration for these incidents. Elizabeth is a member of our fun house of mirrors, exploring the private lives of survivors and victims to satisfy her ghoulish curiosity. She wants to get as close to the criminal as possible, perhaps even imagining the thrill of the crime. As satire, Haynes and Bruch take the story to places that are sure to go into the future. must will make their audience squirm. This is the story of not one predator, but two. Elizabeth—and all she is—is carrion, feeding on the wounded and the dead. And while Elizabeth watches Gracie, we watch her.

To Burch’s credit, her script is extremely witty and contains caustic remarks about the cannibalistic nature of Hollywood. every tragedy can be a selling point. It also combines elements of the ’90s erotic thriller, such as a tawdry seduction scene capped by a deliberately cringeworthy ending, so that what might seem like a foul-mouthed lecture is actually a hell of a lot of fun. One could even argue that Birch risks heading down the same slippery slope as other Netflix properties by giving us a master criminal who is more than meets the eye. And performed by your favorite artist. But it is precisely this risk that may be the reason May December it’s so exciting because it bravely walks that tightrope without ever faltering.

While other true crime films feature heroic cops or smart civilian detectives as heroes, May December has no heroes. Instead, it is a story of tangled obsessions, dark and humane, but not humane. And, in the end, there is no consoling title card promising closure. There will be no satisfaction from justice served. Boldly, Haynes leaves us with the haunting sense that the spiral is getting deeper and darker. Along that path May December is more honest about true crime than most of Netflix’s splashy films.

May December was reviewed at the New York Film Festival. It opens in select theaters on November 17 and on Netflix on December 1.