REVIEW: ‘May December’ Excels In Discomfort

People, regardless of how shallow they seem on the outside, are complex webs of scars laid over and over, the tissue growing thicker and changing them repeatedly. Directed by Todd Haynes and written by Samy Burch and Alex Mechanik, May December is a compelling character study on behavior, routine, and the rippling effects of choices throughout our lives. The film stars Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore in their lead roles as Elizabeth and Gracie, respectively.

The film revolves around the two women. Gracie was the center of a notorious tabloid romance. Her life and choices were on display across the nation, and now, 20 years later, the married couple buckles under the pressure when Elizabeth, an actress, arrives at their home to do research for a film where she will bring Gracie to life on the big screen. Easily set to be more of a Lifetime film than an Oscar contender, Elizabeth still takes it seriously, embedding herself in Gracie and Joe’s (Charles Melton) life.

Elizabeth’s life is fairly ordinary. She plays the lead role in a TV series called Norah’s Ark, but she wants the chance to do something more, pushing herself in the process. The role of her lifetime comes in the form of living Gracie’s life, where she went to prison for having an affair with Joe, a seventh grader at the time. When she became pregnant with their child and served time in prison, the path was sealed, and the two married. The premise is extremely uncomfortable, but that discomfort is never used to shock the audience. Instead, it’s used to push the viewer to see past assumptions and watch as layers of scar tissue are removed piece by piece from both Joe and Gracie.

But where Joe lays himself bare, and you unearth the trauma, Gracie unearths a cruelness that manifests with her daughter and even in how she blames the world on everyone but herself, often refusing to even accept care from Joe. Despite glimpses of Gracie breaking under the weight of her choice, the audience isn’t asked to feel for her but rather see her in a pathetic light. She isn’t some sex-crazed woman looking to harm others who catch her eye, but she is deeply broken, stunted, and unaware of her role in creating this unstable marriage and trapping a child in her life who should have been living his life.

Elizabeth’s interviews cut away sections of the marriage, a scalpal dissecting the perfectly crafted exterior that the couple shows the world to make their affair worth it, to make the jail time worth it. This is true when she is in the bathroom putting on make-up with Gracie, when she’s talking to Joe alone at work, and as she interviews those who know them. Gracie’s ignorance is often both comedic and solemn, and Elizabeth’s focus is humorous and rubbing against voyeurism as she has her own crash into Joe.

Gracie refuses to look at who she has become and who she really is. At the same time, a melodramatic actress, Elizabeth, also refuses to turn to the mirror and see the writing on the wall. For all of her obsession, she is still bad at her profession in the same way that for all of her ignorance and naïveté, Gracie is still responsible for collapsing a child’s life and making him her husband.

While both women deliver stunning performances, it’s Melton’s Joe who steals every scene. Astoundingly handsome, the depth he shows as Elizabeth wrecks his adult life and he reflects on how his innocence was stolen is tremendous. Always walking on unstable ground, he is stuck in an immature cavern with both women burying him further and further down, trying to find and be the man he was supposed to be but understanding he can never reach it. Joe is heartbreaking, and Melton’s performance is weighed down by discomfort, struggling to vocalize his pain, only to be gaslit when he finally does. Joe is in a snare, and we watch it tighten under the weight of both women’s fragile egos.

May December, for all of its drama, is also deeply funny but only in the way that you have to laugh your discomfort in order to shake it off. Darkly humorous, often embodying an arm of strong camp sweeping across sense, the absolute disconnect between the women and how they are versus who they show others is a vein of comedy that bubbles up. The film captures the complexities of humans even when they project simplicity to the world. Everything is uncomfortable, and all of it is comedic at the same time.

Unlike any other film, May December is a fantastic exploration of two consistently oblivious women, very certain that they have a grasp on the world, even when they very clearly are disruptive in every way. Insecurity is the name of the game here, buried under every choice and break, accentuated as the women start to push back on one another. May December is a force of a film because of the acting throughout it, with Charles Melton delivering one of the most riveting and emotional performances of the year.

May December is streaming now, exclusively on Netflix.