Coming-of-age movies are mostly a nuisance. They are pinatas filled with personal nostalgias, burst by sticks swung by well-intended, often-talented narcissists. Poor Things gleefully, hilariously shatters the format.
If Barbie is a late-life epiphany movie that declares “Women have it impossibly hard,” director Yorgos Lanthimos’s bizarro bildungsroman asks “What would it look like if someone simply refused to accept that?” The sheer exhilaration of watching a woman do as she pleases, learn as she pleases, and decide upon the most pleasing version of herself makes for singular cinema. Although it flirts with steampunk, the simplistic boldness of a female character who simply will have nothing to do with gaslighting is triumphant.
That triumph starts with Emma Stone’s next-level performance. Bella (Stone) is the reanimated corpse of a woman who died by suicide while pregnant. Dr. Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe), a surgeon who was experimented on by his father, inserts the infant’s brain into the mother’s body, making Bella two generations in one. She’s the ultimate personification of the “Born Sexy Yesterday” trope, except her story is one of autonomy and self-realization.
Dr. Baxter, called “God” by Bella, forces one of his students, Max (Ramy Youssef), to observe his creation. Of course, Max “falls in love” with Bella, who – please remember – he knows has a literal child’s brain in a fully adult body. Just as God is arranging for Max to marry Bella, Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo), a notorious cad shows up to woo her. Bella clearly explains she has no problem marrying Max but would like to first go on a global, sexual adventure with Duncan. She matures at an exponential rate and is soon confronting everything from sex work to the moral and philosophical underpinnings of the entire human experience.
Working from Alasdair Gray’s novel, writer Tony McNamara’s savvy screenplay exposes the hubris and insecurities of men while contrasting them with Bella’s well-intended, educational mistakes. She’s a Frankenstein’s monster on her way to becoming Dr. Frankenstein, while the men moonwalk the opposite direction. Speaking of walking, the physical comedy in Poor Things alone is enough to make it one of the funniest films of the year. From Stone’s lock-kneed bumbling to Ruffalo’s self-abuse, the visual beats are almost as good as the verbal ones. But only almost. Because in a movie that contains the seriously delivered line “I must go punch that baby,” the words still win.
There’s enough winning to go around though. Career-best comedy from Ruffalo counterpoints the absurd profundity of Stone’s nuanced, meticulous delivery. Lanthimos’s lunatic fairy tale approach has never been more visually beautiful. The score by Jerskin Fendrix is hauntingly unique and somehow his first time composing for a film. Everything works, nothing doesn’t, to the point where most negative reviews actually tell on the reviewer more than anything.
To bring it back to Barbie, the year’s most dominant cultural phenomenon, if that film is the shot and Poor Things is the chaser, here’s hoping that cocktail combination is enough to transcend storytelling and produce people moved to make their lives matter.
Grade = A
Other Critical Voices to Consider
Wenlei Ma at PerthNow says “It’s like watching someone give in completely to her id but without the negative connotations. Bella refuses to give in to what others want from her, but not as a deliberate act of defiance, she’s just doing what feels right to her. Imagine that, to be free to demand your own context.”
Sarah Gopaul at Digital Journal says “Stone’s performance is exceptional, sincerely portraying Bella’s development from infant to mature young woman. The film’s success rests on her shoulders and she is flawless in raising it above any chance of mediocrity.”
Michelle Kisner at The Movie Sleuth says “Yorgo’s rejection of formalism and filmmaking traditions make his films impenetrable for many people, but once you get on his wavelength, it’s exhilarating to see him work his magic.”