Director:
Patty Jenkins
Starring:
Charlize Theron
Christina Ricci
Bruce Dern
Lee Tergesen
Release: 24 Dec. 03
IMDb
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Monster
BY: DAVID PERRY
Aileen Wuornos was a mystery when she went to trial in 1992
for killing six men, and remains so even after a TV movie, two documentaries
by Nick Broomfield, and now a dramatization that attempts to cover the gamut
of her reasons without ever fully understanding a single one. I know that
this might sound like a criticism of the film, but when Wuornos offered so
little to understand before she was executed in 2002, such an obtuse vision
of the film’s protagonist should be expected.
But that acceptance doesn’t make Monster a good film. Instead, it’s just a
lesbian exploitation film built around the immodest gestures of a truly
caring portrait of a serial killer. Wuornos, in the eyes of director Patty
Jenkins, is a monster, yet one that has cathartic fun as she makes her way
through the femme fatale cliché she wants to occupy. Her intense Sapphic love for
wallflower Selby (Ricci) is awkward, but it’s too dirty to be sexy. So, why
is this film little more than Roger Corman with the prestige of a major
Oscar campaign?
The story isn’t exploitive -- it’s gritty, ugly, and wholly disturbing.
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer is, perhaps, the modern paradigm in which
this story’s perfect cinematic counterpart resides. However, Jenkins’ film
isn’t that different from last year’s less-prestigious but just as
outrageous Dahmer. Monster, as it is, offers the character without touching
on what ticks inside Wuornos. It’s like saying that Jeffrey Dahmer’s
killings were uncontrollable effects of a lifetime hiding his homosexuality
-- this Wuornos is just a ugly duckling waiting to become a swan, willing to
kill so she might pay her way until this transformation happens. The level
of conviction Monster has in realizing the reality of Wuornos is minute. I
said before that it’s tough to draw up conclusions on such an enigma, but
even Kaspar Hauser, the epitome of being enigmatic, still had depths found by Werner Herzog in
Every Man for Himself and God Against All.
The duckling-swan conclusion does have an allure, though, which explains why
some are willing to become engrossed in the film’s petty dramatics. In fact,
Monster, despite being a true independent productions (rumor has it that the
film’s musical centerpiece -- a wonderfully used “Don’t Stop Believing” --
got Journey’s lead singer to find minor investors to make Monster), is
form-fitted for People magazine covers. Showing the transformation of the
absolutely gorgeous Charlize Theron into the dumpy and frazzled Wuornos
makes for a nice photo layout. It is an astounding example of an actress
getting into character, even if her acting abilities are still laking once
she put on the pounds and covered her perfect face with makeup. This isn’t
like Robert De Niro turning into Jake LaMata for Raging Bull, in which the
actor gained weight and also peaked as a performer.
And yet Monster will still be celebrated for its actress’ makeover in the
face of vanity. Even though Christina Ricci, playing what might be her
single most annoying role (that is, until the impending release of the dreadful
Prozac
Nation), delivers a far more realized character. Theron will get the kudos
and the awards and the gaggle of wonderful roles. Ricci can only watch,
pushed to the side until Hollywood remembers that she has big breasts.
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