May December – Cannes 2023 (Film Review)
3 min read
Courtesy of Netflix
Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore play a dangerous game in Todd Haynes' chilling, campy psychodrama.
If Todd Haynes can be relied upon for anything, it's a study of the insidious undercurrent of suburban America. In the case of his latest psychological drama, May December, Haynes' subjects come in the form of Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore) and her husband Joe (Charles Melton).
May December begins with the arrival of actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) at a humble home in Savannah, Georgia. Berry is teed up to play the role of Gracie in an upcoming indie film, and her research involves spending time with the couple to witness first-hand the lives of the pair whose story littered the tabloids in the early 90s. But what is it about the Yoos that's so special? So scandalous?
The answer to this question lies twenty years prior to the time in which May December is set: in 1992, when it was discovered that Gracie, in her mid-30s, had become romantically entangled with the 13-year-old Joe. Of course, if this isn't unsettling enough, we soon learn that despite Gracie's stint behind bars, in present day the pair are married, have twins about to graduate high school and an elder daughter already at college, and are ready for their lives as loved-up empty nesters.
Seemingly well-liked pillars of their community, Elizabeth is keen to understand the relationship between Gracie and Joe. But what starts as an innocent-enough attempt to understand a complex dynamic soon reveals cracks in the Yoos relationship, and Elizabeth determinedly works her way into them.
Samy Burch has written one hell of a compelling screenplay for May December. Layered, nuanced, and deeply unsettling, it maintains a disquieting tension throughout, but peppers it with laugh-out-loud camp comedy. Haynes draws out the best of Burch's script, with genuine consideration for the human element behind Gracie and Joe's relationship instead of simply aiming to scandalise, as unnerving as this exploration may be.
Julianne Moore's Gracie has a stunning lack of self-awareness and a grip on reality that can only be described as tenuous. Despite having been convicted for her crimes, she continues to place herself as a victim of love and consistently projects the image of a fragile bird in need of Joe's constant protection. Of course, the steely determination which drives Gracie is soon uncovered, but somehow doesn't seem calculated: she is genuinely at odds with herself, showing an awareness that her actions were perhaps unconventional, but not predatory or inappropriate in any way. Perhaps this is denial. Perhaps it's self-preservation. That is the beauty of May December: the moral unknowns.
Were Gracie played by anyone else, her simpering nature and irritating refusal to face her past would be nothing more than unbearable. But Moore brings a genuine naivety to the role, simultaneously warming herself to the audience and repulsing them with her attitude towards her odious history. It's a complex performance, and one only Moore could have pulled off.
Similarly, Charles Melton delivers a stunningly complex and utterly convincing performance as Joe, somehow frozen in youth and old beyond his years, but unfailingly kind as he comes to terms with his trauma. His performance is affecting and heartfelt, particularly in the closing scenes.
In contrast, Natalie Portman's Elizabeth slowly teases an increasingly calculated nature which is strikingly at odds with the easygoing actress who first arrived in the suburbs. She is difficult to decipher and entirely entrancing. Portman is at her best when exploring the unhinged, and she once again proves her mettle in May December. Her five-minute monologue delivered directly to camera is easily the highlight of the film: her chilling performance in this scene will surely go down as one of her best.
The cinematography and scoring are striking and effective, working seamlessly to enhance the tension throughout. Speaking with Vanity Fair, Todd Haynes explained how the score itself informed the zooms, the rhythm, and the movement of the camera. Retrospectively, it's easy to see now just how daringly the two work in conjunction with each other.
Haynes takes as bold an approach to the direction, scoring and cinematography of May December as the actors bring to their performances, all of which combine seamlessly to form what is easily one of the most morally compelling psychodramas of recent years.
