The film “May December” ventures into a narrative that grapples with a haunting past and the complex nature of personal identity. It’s a picture that unnerves as much as it engages, dancing on the line between camp humor and intense drama, dissecting themes of shame, guilt, and the burdens of notoriety. Drawing inspiration from the scandalous true-life story of Mary Kay Letourneau, a teacher who engaged in an illicit relationship with her 12-year-old student, the film scrutinizes the toxic fallout for those directly involved, as well as the peripheral figures tangled in this web of infamy.
Set against the backdrop of idyllic Savannah, Georgia, “May December” unfolds its tale in 2015. Elizabeth, portrayed by Natalie Portman, is a method actor who immerses herself into the lives of Gracie and Joe, her characters’ real-life counterparts, as prelude to portraying Gracie in an upcoming film. Julianne Moore’s Gracie, together with Joe, played by Charles Melton, found their existence thrust into the relentless glare of tabloid sensationalism during the 90s after they were discovered in an unlawful tryst within the confines of a pet shop storage area.
The scandal was further fueled by their ages—Gracie at 36 and Joe a mere 13 years old. Gracie’s conviction and subsequent jail time, during which she gave birth to Joe’s daughter, is a cornerstone of their complex history. When Elizabeth enters the scene, the couple has been in a long-standing marriage and is on the cusp of celebrating the graduation of their twins, Mary and Charlie, while their eldest daughter, Honor, is already navigating college life.
An assemblage of strained familial relations threatens to further complicate matters, as Gracie’s ex-husband Tom and their shared children, including Georgie, a former classmate of Joe, converge upon the scene. Throughout the film, Elizabeth deeply engages with Tom, Gracie’s lawyer Morris, and of course, Georgie, delving into the fabric of their intertwined lives.
Director Todd Haynes employs a compelling visual motif of mirrors and reflections, a cinematic technique that delves into the essence of our perceptions and reactions toward what we observe. The critical foundation of the film is established when Elizabeth and Gracie first exchange words, a moment that foretells the psychological mirroring to ensue. Gracie’s assertion, “We are basically the same size,” is met with Elizabeth’s reflective “We’re basically the same,” instigating a journey of eerie mimicry that pervades the storyline.
As the film evolves, Elizabeth’s transformation intensifies, adapting Gracie’s mannerisms, attire, and even her cosmetic preferences—their mirror-gaze sequence, as they apply makeup together, verges on the voyeuristic. This lack of clear resolution or pardon for their deeds adds layers of disquietude, making “May December” a film that resists tidy conclusions.
The script, razor-sharp, delivers with surgical precision, particularly evident in the letter Gracie composes for Joe—a testament to denial at its most profound. The performances are a formidable showcase of talent; Moore embodies Gracie with an unsettling mix of fragility and detachment, while Portman slips into the skin of Elizabeth with calculated grace. Yet, it is Melton’s interpretation of Joe that strikes a chord—his metamorphosis from his “Riverdale” persona to a man haunted by his controversial history is notably impactful.
“May December” is a film that warrants attention, not only for its stellar performances and acute writing, which rightfully scooped an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay but also for the challenging questions it poses. Though discomforting, these are inquiries that bear contemplating, especially in our current climate of amplified scrutiny into personal histories and accountability.
In theaters now, “May December Part 2” continues the saga, beckoning audiences back into its unsettling but compelling world.
