Shades of Frida

When I was home for Thanksgiving, I managed to squeeze in one movie in an actual theatre with Jon. We went to go see Fur, this thing about Diane Arbus, starring Nicole Kidman. It's directed by Steven Shainberg, who also did the adaptation of Mary Gaitskill's short story Secretary. And Secretary is a movie that I really love. It's one of the warmest, yet least sentimental love stories I can remember seeing on film. And it's quirky and tortured and deadpan in a way that makes me happy. Fur, however, takes on the very curious subject matter of ye olde circus freak photographer, Diane Arbus-- and should have been another good, solidly weird movie, especially because it makes a big show of how it's not just another biopic, how it's an imaginary portrait of Arbus' inner life. But I'm convinced that some of the spirit of films like this leaks out when the lead role is filled by someone who is just too damn famous--and famous for being gorgeous. I have nothing against Nicole Kidman... over the years, I have enjoyed several of her movies. However, I remember reading somewhere (the New Yorker, maybe?) when Closer came out that Natalie Portman presented a unique challenge to any director as she was really just growing into her beauty and her womanhood at that moment of the article. The challenge is that, when you're that beautiful, it's hard to keep the movie-- and every shot, every camera angle therein-- from being only about how beautiful the star is. It's like physical attractiveness is so distracting that it's hard for a director, camera and/or audience to focus on anything else. And perhaps the problem is that Kidman never lost her statuesque, willowy Kidman-ness in this part... she's just Nicole in '50s circle skirts and ballet flats. She's just not weird enough to be Arbus! And Shainberg didn't find the same kind of weirdness in her that he did in Maggie Gyllenhaal in Secretary, either, and so, the whole movie suffers.

I think I noted a similar problem in Frida, the Julie Taymor venture with Salma Hayek about Frida Kahlo. I REALLY wanted to like this movie. I think Taymor is a friggin' genius-- her painterly landscape alone in Titus was enough to win me over. I mean, this woman is a professional puppeteer who's got a real oddball sensibility. And, likewise, Frida herself was not exactly mundane or average in any way. And yet, because Hayek was the driving (financial) force behind getting the movie made int he first place, she was cast in the part... and her acting was simply not adequate to pull off anything but a spry, sexy cheerleader version of the limping, unibrowed artist! And so, that movie, too, was a big bore.

All this said, I really do want to see a pretty woman play a good weirdo. I think Cameron Diaz did a bang-up job in Being John Malkovich but, that character hardly had a historical source. And they really had to ugly her up to do it. So, readers, I offer a challenge: Can anyone help me think of a really hot woman playing a convincing freak? A movie in which the camera's problematically male gaze doesn't linger on the candlelit glow of the pretty girl's face for just a little too long? A movie in which the actress can be both pretty and a misfit at the same time... but have the movie not be about the prettiness? I'm sure it exists... but somehow I'm only thinking of more and more examples like Fur and Frida. I feel like I'm running a risk here of sounding like I begrudge these women their beauty.. but that's not really what I'm after. In fact, I think the notion of a drop dead gorgeous, completely loony, idiosyncratic character would be the sort of thing I'd stay up all night thinking about. The idea of a character having a very normal (even an exceptionally appealing) outward persona that is in drastic contrast with said character's inner life... well, I gotta see that movie! And I'm not talking about the beautiful, mysterious, tortured woman. I mean, where's a beautiful freak--perhaps one who enjoys her freakishness, even? Surely... surely it exists.

I wonder if Parker Posey counts?