Drama, Horror, Sci-Fi – R – 2h 6m
3 stars out of 5
After one bad oyster and a tragic brawl at a restaurant that sends an outspoken prostitute, Ida — the Bride, spectacularly played by the dedicated Jessie Buckley — tumbling down the stairs in much the same way Meryl Streep’s Madeline falls in Death Becomes Her, Ida is resurrected by Dr. Euphronious (Annette Bening) to keep company to the monster Frank (Frankenstein, played by the excellent Christian Bale).
She returns as a Jean Harlow–style brazen broken doll from hell, coughing up black residue reminiscent of the oil industry’s toxic waste. Smeared on the side of her face for the entire duration of the film, it is meant to become a symbol of feminism and women’s solidarity in bringing to justice men who are toxic, stupid, arrogant, deceiving, weak, and rapists.
Feel free to fill in your own hateful descriptions of men here, because the Jeffrey Epstein case, the Gisèle Pelicot case, and the Harvey Weinstein sexual abuse cases gave you that right. In this movie, all of them are. Women? They are wronged, deceived, slighted, resilient, undermined, etc.
Maggie Gyllenhaal’s incoherent script — paired with her much better directorial skills — conveys one clear message: men are scum. The cultural pendulum took an extreme swing to the opposite side with the #MeToo movement; while misogyny is condemned, misandry is unapologetically celebrated with impunity. In case you missed the message, Ida even screams out “Me too, me too, me too” in one of the final scenes. The feminism in this film is so cartoonish that by the end I wasn’t even sure whether misandry was the point — or the director’s prank.
After Ida and Frank are attacked by two particularly vile men who try to rape Ida and beat up Frank, Frank defends her and murders both men on the spot, conquering Ida’s heart and trust. He is a good man — good and dead, maybe good because he is dead. Frank isn’t good for long, however, because he lies to Ida about who she is and what their relationship really is. After all, Ida can’t remember anything before she died. In any case, they run from the police like Bonnie and Clyde, only without the excitement of robbing banks.
Peter Sarsgaard plays a sexist, gutless detective, Jake Wiles, who solves crimes with his partner Myrna Malloy, played by Penélope Cruz. Myrna doesn’t seem to mind Jake’s constant undermining, even though she clearly knows she is more astute and better at her job. Of course! Jake Gyllenhaal plays a Fred Astaire–type movie star whom Frank becomes obsessed with.
The dialogue often strives for profundity and some elusive deeper meaning, but frequently lands as clumsy or ludicrous. A few lines I remember:
Frank: “I am reinfigurated.”
Ida: “Isn’t everyone?”
Frank: “No.”
Or this exchange:
Myrna: “This scene is for detectives now.”
Cop: “Where are the detectives?”
Myrna: “You are looking at her.”
This pathos made the audience in the theater where I saw the film — men and women alike — laugh mercilessly, not in celebration.
It is bizarre that this gothic literary tale of love, companionship, empathy, rage, and vengeance has suddenly been repurposed into a confusing political vehicle for the battle of the sexes. The characters lose their poetic presence and turn into comic-book cousins of Joker and Catwoman. The city feels like Gotham, and judging by the finale, Ms. Gyllenhaal is clearly not opposed to creating The Bride 2! or 3!.
