For a brief moment early in May December, I thought the film would be my stargate to understanding what makes a film campy. Whilst sullenly staring into her fridge, grim music plays as Julianne Moore woefully lisps “I don’t think we have enough hot dogs.” Alas, I am a cyclops standing before a magic eye image, as “camp” will never be three-dimensional for me. Because the next two hours were a mystifying, dull experience.
Whatever May December is, it’s not for me. This is a shame because Moore is a treasure, and I have loved director Todd Hayes’s previous work. Filled with only one or two non-hot-dog-related moments of levity that I could identify, calling this a comedy is like referring to a fall down an elevator shaft as “a wild ride.” I suppose? If that’s how you want to see it, I can’t really argue, but it feels like that’s maybe not the best way to describe the experience.
The film is at least somewhat based on the real story of Mary Kay Letourneau, a 34-year-old who had sex with a middle-school student that she would later marry and raise children with. That does not scream “laugh riot.” It may scream “camp,” but again, that word is forever hiding its meaning from me. The fictionalized Gracie (Moore) is the Letourneau figure, who agrees to visit with an actress named Elizabeth (Natalie Portman), who will be playing her in an indie film. This is meta. I get that much. Wait, is meta also camp? Is meta-camp a thing or am I just brainstorming tech company names?
Gracie’s husband, Joe (Charles Melton), is about to be an empty nester in his 30s. His children are off to college. This sets off a torrent of emotions and analogies about butterflies that don’t quite make sense. While Elizabeth tries to replicate everything about Gracie down to her foundation and lip liner, the problematic couple drifts towards a potential oblivion they seem to have been putting off for a few decades. Everyone is pretty selfish and gross, but at least Joe has a real good excuse as to why.
Honestly, with the tabloid source material and glossy look, the whole thing feels like a Ryan Murphy joint that isn’t quite as manic or upsetting. It is upsetting, to be clear. Particularly Elizabeth’s vampiric consumption of everyone around her. The thing is, if it is a character study, no characters are thoroughly enough studied. If it’s a comedy, even a dark or satirical one, it probably needed a bit more clarity on what precisely is funny here. If it’s a tense thriller, where are the stakes? If it’s a commentary on our need for salacious scandal, I have no idea what the comment is.
I don’t get it. Which is totally fine, as most critics apparently think this is a finely honed, well-polished gem. When I first started reviewing movies, when I found myself outside the critical consensus, I raged a bit. It was braggadocio, an unearned sense of superiority that said “That thing you like is bad, and only I know it.” It’s a horrid way to leave and an awful thing to feel. To be clear, this movie was not good. To be clearer, it was only not good to me, a guy who can only conclusively tell you that hot dogs are definitely campy.
Grade = C-
Other Critical Voices to Consider
Lissete Lanuza Sáenz at Fangirlish says “It’s just a movie about a messed-up situation that’s elevated by outstanding performances. If, at times, the movie does a good job at making you consider why we, as a society, are more fascinated than horrified by some things, then at least that’s something. There isn’t much more than that.”
Lauren Coates at The Mary Sue says “Todd Haynes’ May December is a master stroke that combines razor sharp comedic sensibilities with devastating introspective revelations to deliver a masterclass in character examinations.”
Rendy Jones at Rendy Reviews says “Within May December lies an in-your-face metaphor regarding butterflies. There’s on-the-nose, and then there’s ‘squeezing your nose.’ Haynes does the latter so often that it nearly took me out.”