‘May December’: The Roles Women Play

Todd Haynes puts the vanity of his characters on full display, demonstrating how phony they are in everyday interactions. This makes for deliciously uncomfortable viewing

When we first meet Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore), she seems like a typical suburban mom. Her husband Joe (Charles Melton) is outside manning the grill while she meticulously ices a cake in the kitchen. They live in a quiet beach town in Savannah, Georgia, and are preparing for a barbecue. Joe comes inside to grab a beer. “That’s two,” Gracie says with a smile and a kiss, before asking him to take the plates and cups back with him outside, which he does willingly. Then, Gracie’s two teenage children run through the house with a group of friends on their way to the roof. Gracie sternly tells her daughter to be safe in a way that reminds me of my own mom. “I’m not calling anybody’s mother today because someone broke their neck and died,” she says. She is sweeter with her son. “Keep an eye on things for me okay?” she asks him, suggesting a more tender bond.

On the surface, everything about this family is ordinary. But what if I told you that Gracie met and had sex with Joe when he was just thirteen years old and she was thirty-six, while she was his manager at a local pet store? This illicit affair, as you can imagine, caused a national scandal. She was sentenced to serve time in prison and register as a sex offender, which created a rift with her children from her first marriage. That backstory seems like worlds away from the Gracie and Joe we see at the barbecue who, twenty years later, appear as just another American family with their mundane suburban problems, like worrying that there aren’t enough hot dogs for the grill or that the kids are up to no good.

However, if you dig deeper, the dynamic is there in all the unspoken gestures that reveal decades-long habits and behaviors. Complex questions arise: Does Joe comply with Gracie because he is a nice husband, or because he still views her as his abuser? Is Gracie gentler with her son because he’s the more obedient one (teenage daughters, am I right?), or because she is a sexual predator who has a perverse fascination with little boys?

It’s impossible to ignore the reason why Gracie is making such a fuss about the barbecue in the first place. Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman), a famous Hollywood actress, is preparing to play Gracie in a movie and will observe Gracie and her family for a few days. She plans to meet Gracie at the barbecue. What could possibly go wrong?

Gracie’s affair with Joe might recall Mary Kay Letourneau, but Haynes and screenwriter Samy Burch insist that the connections only go so far. “I certainly don’t want anyone to assume that we’re trying to say all these conversations happened behind closed doors, it’s not. This was just a jumping-off point and a way that something like this made sense to me emotionally,” Burch clarified in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter.

Indeed, May December is less an examination of one specific crime and more about our culture’s collective response. The movie is about self-delusion, the many lies we tell ourselves in order to sleep better at night. Throughout, Haynes returns to the visual motif of the mirror to show how his characters’ identities are connected to appearance, the roles they choose to play, and the personas they create for public consumption. Haynes explores concepts of performance, but he is not solely interested in meta-commentary about a Hollywood actress. We’re all acting, Haynes says, and in each scene, he brilliantly presents his case by putting the vanity of his characters on full display, demonstrating how phony they are in everyday interactions. This makes for deliciously uncomfortable viewing.

Haynes is one of the great contemporary directors of women, and fortunately, he doesn’t subscribe to the foolish belief that all female characters must be decent. Gracie and Elizabeth are monstrous, unable or unwilling to consider the pain they cause by following their selfish desires. Gracie, despite constant reminders of her crime (boxes of shit are regularly sent to their home by disapproving strangers), refuses to accept that she did anything wrong by grooming a thirteen-year-old boy. “You seduced me,” she says at one point to Joe during a tense confrontation.

Elizabeth, as well, doesn’t grasp the pain her participation in a movie about Gracie’s life would cause. When she arrives in Savannah, her nonchalant dismissal of other people’s skepticism is chilling. When Gracie’s oldest daughter challenges her motives, for example, she reassures her that the movie will go deeper than the tabloids and portray the truth without realizing that this, precisely, is what those who doubt her are afraid of — more drumming up of past events and endless media scrutiny that the family doesn’t need. “It’s a very complex and human story,” Elizabeth repeats as if this means anything significant. She believes her work is noble.

It’s difficult to watch May December and not think of Moore herself, who, like Elizabeth, has to reconcile starring in this movie and bringing more media attention to Letourneau. “This is not a story about those people,” Moore said at the movie’s premiere when asked about the similarities, while simultaneously acknowledging Burch’s inspiration. “The problem with tabloid culture,” she continued, “is that it doesn’t always take into account that these are real human beings.”

Moore’s response resembles Elizabeth’s, which is slightly concerning. Are the real-life makers of May December guilty of the same exploitation the fictional makers of Gracie’s movie are? I don’t have the answer, but in addition to giving fascinating performances, Moore and Portman deserve credit for committing to a project that dares to challenge the ethics of their craft.

Curiously, just as Gracie and Elizabeth can’t see that they are the villains in the story, Joe doesn’t understand that he is the victim. Legally he always was, and Haynes examines how Joe has rejected that label to find closure, even at the expense of his well-being. As the movie progresses, it’s clear that he hasn’t done any reflecting, and he and Gracie never discuss how they met. Elizabeth’s presence increasingly rattles Joe. As she probes about his past, it dawns on him that for the majority of his life, Gracie has overpowered him. He hasn’t had the freedom to form his own feelings.

Scenes are darkly comic, but you will likely walk away from May-December feeling deep sadness. The final scene best expresses the delicate tone, leaving us with much to discuss. Time passes and Elizabeth is on set filming Gracie’s story. Despite her promises, the movie she’s making is clearly salacious, as Elizabeth’s Gracie seduces the young actor playing Joe with a snake around her neck. It’s doubtful that the actual assault in the pet store transpired this way, and while it’s fun to watch Portman (the way she pets the snake like a penis is hilarious), it’s sad to see Elizabeth stoop this low. Haynes shares our disgust and condemns the countless true crime TV movie spectacles that turn real-life pain and suffering into titillating entertainment.

May December is the kind of sophisticated drama that makes you think. With nods to Ingmar Bergman’s Persona (1966) and Haynes’ own disturbing psychological thriller Safe (1995), there are plenty of treats for cinephiles, but you don’t need to catch all the references to sink into the movie’s many pleasures. You do, however, need an open mind to approach frank subject matter and a willingness to accept ambiguity. Haynes explores the dark mysteries of human nature without resolving them, and even though in the moment that can be frustrating, by the end you’ll be glad to be treated like an adult.