May December

Director: Todd Haynes 
Starring: Natalie Portman, Julianne Moore, Charles Melton, Cory Michael Smith, Elizabeth Yu, Gabriel Chung, Piper Curda, D.W. Moffett, Lawrence Arancio
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Part soapy melodrama, part psychological character study, Todd Haynes' gripping May December should have no business working as well as it does. And it already had a lot to overcome by being more than loosely based on the infamous case of Mary Kay Letourneau, the 36-year-old teacher who in 1996 initiated a sexual relationship with her sixth grade student, Vili Fualaau. Serving two separate prison sentences, she'd bare two of his children, eventually marrying him upon her release. Knowing that helps, but it isn't everything, as Haynes uses some of those details as his jumping off point. 

Walking a tightrope in tone, the filmmaker skillfully swings between scenes of high camp and human tragedy, with hardly a moment passing where you don't worry the entire endeavor will go as horribly wrong as the characters' lives. But while specializing in his own unique brand of cinematic discomfort, Haynes has a plan, infusing this over-the-top material with sincerity and harsh emotional truths, rarely losing sight of the surrounding sensationalism.

It's 2015 and actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) arrives in Savannah, Georgia to research her upcoming role as Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore), a woman arrested in 1992 for having sex with her son's 13-year-old classmate Joe at the pet store she managed. Now decades after serving her jail time, this same boy is Gracie's husband (Charles Melton) and they're parents of graduating teen twins Charlie (Gabriel Chung) and Mary (Elizabeth Yu), and a college-aged daughter, Honor (Piper Curda). Elizabeth interviews the controversial couple, also meeting with Gracie's neighbors, exes and family, all of whom reveal more about her history and current standing within the community. 

Baking and selling cakes out of her home, Gracie's insulated herself from the past while Joe works an unfulfilling job as an X-ray technician, spending his free time rearing monarch butterflies. But despite her professionalism and gratitude, Elizabeth's presence unnerves Gracie, whose hospitality masks a frustrated annoyance. For Joe, the actress's questioning unearths painful feelings and memories, shining a disturbing light on the true nature of he and his wife's relationship. It's a revelation neither can handle, even as Elizabeth's obsessive commitment to the role makes her question everything she assumes to know about them and herself.

Believing she did nothing wrong and burying away whatever feelings of guilt or shame once existed, Gracie's compartmentalized her actions, too far entrenched in her own lies for any news article or strange looks in town to make a difference. Now occupying what seems like her own universe, the self-denial seems to have only grown stronger in the years since her arrest.

After awkwardly getting along with her unwanted guest at first, cracks in Gracie's personality emerge when Elizabeth starts gathering information from Gracie's ex-husband Tom (D.W. Moffett) and troubled son Georgie (Cory Michael Smith). Moore hits just the right notes here, cluing us in that enough is off with Gracie that even those unfamiliar with her crime can still spot the red flags. Composed one minute, crying the next, Moore gives these passive aggressive peeks into of the type of monster you'd typically associate with abusers. It's even evident in Gracie's interactions with her own daughter, who she subtly but cruelly denigrates.

Elizabeth's research opens the floodgates, poking holes in Gracie's carefully cultivated facade and putting her on alert. And Portman's performance is that much more impressive for what it holds back than reveals, particularly regarding Elizabeth's opinions about this entire situation. There's a detached objectivity at first, but as they talk, you see the changes in not only how Elizabeth views the part, but what it's doing to her. Of course, you also can't help but notice the meta layer to this, as audiences won't be able to resist projecting perceptions of Portman the movie star onto the character.

From all indications, Elizabeth's a moderately famous actress, though not necessarily respected, even by her own admission. With that void to fill, she takes this research very seriously, talking to all the right people, asking good questions and meticulously shadowing Gracie and Joe. It's through these interactions that certain details spill, with Gracie bending over backwards to spin her marriage to Joe as "true love." But as these lies grow, it provides Elizabeth with even more backstory for the part, potentially impairing her ability to approach the role without judgment.

Does Elizabeth despise or idolize Gracie? Is she repulsed by the couple's relationship or turned on by it? Is she she being manipulated or is she the manipulator? Could she be after Joe? Or maybe none of that's true and she's simply an extremely committed actress. Her speech to the high school drama class about morally ambiguous characters indicates as much. Portman's rarely been better in this performance within a performance, tying us in knots wondering where the actress begins and character ends. It's exemplified by her chilling monologue into the mirror and those four devastating words she utters in the last act that just might qualify as the line delivery of the year.

Charles Melton's Joe represses a hurt that bubbles to the surface the more he's reminded what really happened to him. Gracie's more his parent than spouse, and not just because of the age difference. Barely a functioning husband or father, he's a 13-year-old boy trapped in a man's body, unable to mature or move forward while sleeping next to his abuser for the better part of 23 years. Melton is shattering as this stunted adult crying on his own teen son's shoulder, offering up a different, eye-opening take on the long-term effects of sexual abuse, regardless of gender.

Hazily but beautifully shot by Christopher Blauvelt to resemble a mid-afternoon 80's TV miniseries, Marcelo Zarvos' haunting score (adapted from Michel LeGrand's music from 1971's The Go-Between) may as well be the fourth character, with rich, distinctive melodies that build atmospheric tension throughout. Fitting so well precisely because it doesn't, this clash only heightens the film's sense of uneasiness and dread. 

Actors playing actors can often come across as gimmicky, but Portman's intriguing, multi-layered turn proves a huge exception, easily representing her strongest work since Black Swan. It's also inseparable from Moore's take on a damaged, deluded character who faces renewed exposure after decades of protecting herself from the irreversible damage she's caused. With them, Haynes transforms a story that could have been the epitome of tabloid trash into an intensely watchable, thought provoking experience.