Film Review: The Help (2011)

“I Hear That Movie’s Racist...”

By Jordan Overstreet
Published: September 20, 2011

For those of us seeking a movie with substance, the summer can be a season of disappointment. During these poolside months of adolescent liberation, filmmakers flood the market with slutty rom-coms, superhero sagas, and sorry sequels to last summer’s blockbusters. They cinematically distort the image on screen, focusing not on the narrative but on the special effects, hoping to impress us with high speed car chases, alien encounters, and, always popular, scenes in which “they blow shit up.”

Floating in this season of rift-raft is “The Help.” A big screen adaptation of Kathryn Stockett’s novel of the same name, the film has become the topic of much discussion since its August 10th premiere - and not because of dynamic performances given by Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer - but due to the concern that “The Help” is a racist motion picture.

From Tumblr and Twitter to the Arts section of the New York Times, it seems everyone has an opinion about the Tate Taylor film and it’s exploration of the relationship, or lack there of, between African American maids and their white employers in 1963 Mississippi. Valerie Boyd, a journalism professor and noted Zora Neale Hurston biographer, called the period piece “a feel-good movie for a cowardly nation.” Film critic, Nelson George used the New York Times as a soap box, chastising the filmmakers for failing to adequately “come to terms” with America’s racial history.

To call “The Help” a racist film is to deny the fact that the film is honest. This is a period piece and the main function of this type of motion picture is to authentically recreate the past, allowing the audience to time travel back to a particular bygone era. In the case of “The Help,” Mr. Taylor, who also wrote the screenplay, is successful in his endeavor. While he spends far too much time showing us shots of vintage Cadillacs and A-line dresses, Mr. Taylor does accurately portray the dynamic and racial tensions between African American maids and their white female employers. The accuracy of these portrayals is proven by audience response and the discomfort we feel when, for example, the Queen Bee of prejudice, Hilly Holbrook (Bryce Dallas Howard) refuses to let her maid, Minny Jackson (Octavia Spencer), use the inside restroom during a thunderstorm and when Minny does use the inside bathroom, Hilly fires her instantly. Sure, the white characters in the film are racist, but they’re supposed to be. To not depict these prejudices, as uncomfortable to watch as they are, would be an inaccurate presentation of a very volatile time in American history.

Granted, “The Help” is a safe film about the days of Jim Crow. Mr. Taylor purposely keeps us in the domestic arena, only giving us a few glances out the window into the reality of the civil rights movement. He contains his audience not to trivialize or down play African American activism, but rather to focus on what the film is essentially about: the relationships between African American maids their white female employers. By centering his film on such a specific aspect of this turbulent time, there is no way Mr. Taylor can “come to terms” with the broad scope of America’s racial past.

Similarly, Mr. Taylor consciously creates an ensemble piece in “The Help.” While many see the characters of Aibileen Clark (Viola Davis) and Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone) as the leads, Mr. Taylor never decides which of the two women is the protagonist of the film, leaving each individual audience member to choose. This confusion as to whose story it is gets right to the crux of the critical debate because who we select, be it Ailbileen or Skeeter, affects how we read and respond to the film. If you choose Skeeter as the protagonist, as the Association of Black Women Historians, seems to do, then the film is about her coming of age story and how she matured. If you choose Ailbileen as the protagonist, then the film is about her association with Skeeter and how voicing her opinion ultimately sets her free.

Recall, Skeeter is a liberal Ole Miss grad hoping to pursue a career in journalism, who returns to her hometown of Jackson with a new, more mature, set of eyes (College will do that to you) and begins to see injustices in her community. Her childhood friends, especially Hilly have grown into versions of their parents, inheriting their fathers’ of racial prejudices and their mothers’ cruel tongue. Hoping to rewrite the wrongs of the previous generation and expose this injustice, Skeeter wants to give the African American maids a voice by writing a book of their experience and she enlists the help of Ailbileen to do so. While she is initially hesitant, Ailbileen joins the project, providing Skeeter with a line of communication into the African American domestic working community. The book is eventually published and the success of the novel lands Skeeter a job in New York. Reluctant to leave, Skeeter is ultimately convinced by Ailbileen to take the job. For her contribution, Ailbileen receives the praise and appreciation from the African American community; however, her employer recognizes her testimony and fires Ailbileen. As she walks out of the white neighborhood, Ailbileen finds comfort in her freedom and hopes to also become a writer.

The Association of Black Women Historians finds particular concern in the character of Ailbileen, specifically in her speech and testimony, calling her “a disappointing resurrection of the Mammy.” Beautifully acted by an Oscar-worthy Ms. Davis, Ailbileen says more—far more—than the Mammy characters of the 1930’s and 1940’s. In “Gone with the Wind,” Hattie McDaniel never gets to say anything more than “yes,” “no,” and the occasional quip whispered under her breath. Mr. Taylor gives Ailbileen so much more freedom of speech, stripping the “Mammy” character or its stereotype and making more three-dimensional presentation of a domestic worker. While Ms. Davis uses the black dialect in her characterization of Ailbileen, the ABWH’s complaint that her accent is “over-exaggerated” and “child-like” seems valid; nevertheless, Ms. Davis’ performance speaks far louder than her dialect.

Although “The Help” does not tackle anything new, the film does capture Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer in the roles’ of their careers. If you choose to take a ride on this summer’s melodramic merry-go-round, make sure to pack some Kleenex. And when things get uncomfortable, just remember that this is only a piece of fiction.

Film Review: Main Street (2011)

“The Road Less Traveled: The In Home Movie Experience”

By Jordan Overstreet
Published: September 26, 2011

Whether you’re ready or not, the way we view motion pictures is changing. Unless you are a film student, an NBA star with a theatre in the basement, or a barnacle when it comes to change, the days of dinner and a movie are over. With Netflix, Amazon On Demand, Vudu, Hulu, and the classic cable On Demand library, screening movies at home is merely a click of the television remote or the computer mouse away.

In this trend to make content easily accessible to the consumer, many distributors are now incorporating an On Demand release into a movie’s distribution cycle, meaning that a given film would be released to the On Demand library the same day as it hits the stores in DVD form. Recently, in hopes to increase box-office revenue, some distributors have even gone so far as to release a movie to these cable companies before the title is even is listed on the marquee of a mega-plex.

Last Sunday, as my Friday morning hangover finally caught up with me, I took the road less traveled and explored the On Demand catalogue on my television. Hidden among the recent summer blockbusters and Steve Gutenberg dramas I found a familiar title: “Main Street.” I originally saw the movie in a market screening at the 63rd annual Festival de Cannes, so I was surprised to see it banished to what I consider to be the underworld of cinema. Whether it was pity or the just fact that nothing else was on, we will never know; nonetheless, I revisited the John Doyle film.

“Main Street” much like Jodi Markell’s 2010 venture, “A Loss of A Teardrop Diamond” is a posthumous work from a great playwright, Horton Foote. Foote, best known for “Tender Mercies,” “A Trip to Bountiful,” and recently Dividing the Estate, is very much in his element in this Southern melodrama, which follows the intersecting lives of various members of the dying Durham, North Carolina community. The film begins with a montage of black and white images of the once vibrant empire of the North Carolina tobacco industry. Doyle juxtaposes this with the present state of the town by returning to color and taking a trip down a desolate and empty main street.

The past continues to haunt the present as we are introduced to Georgiana Carr (Ellen Burstyn), the aging daughter of a tobacco millionaire, as she recants Durham’s “Golden Age” to a prospective realtor. Through a low, wide-angle shot, Doyle captures Georgiana sitting on the porch of her spacious white estate, which is reminiscent of a modern-day version of Blanche Dubois’ Belle Rive, in downtown Durham. Like the wrinkled Georgiana, the house too shows signs of aging--chipped paint, cobwebs. Doyle then pulls away to reveal a small compact car made in the 1990’s, suggesting Georgiana’s world is outmoded and she, herself, becomes an emblem of Durham’s decay.

As the city council meets to discuss ways to bring in new business, their only hope is the youth of Durham; however, that generation is incapable of reviving the town, considering many have moved away to pursue their own dreams. Moreover, the two youthful perspectives Foote gives us—Harris Parker (Orlando Bloom) and Mary Saunders (Amber Tamblyn)—are stagnant characters, trapped in their parents’ world with no signs of leaving anytime soon.

Enter Gus Leroy (Colin Firth), a Texan entrepreneur with an entourage—3 sterile white trucks filled with canisters of hazardous waste. Sporting an electric blue button down and black suede cowboy boots (very deus ex machina, no?), Leroy, who Georgianna’s new tenant in her downtown warehouse, saunters into town with a plan for rebirth: hazardous waste storage and management. Although Leroy’s presence in Durham ambiguous—is it a mere coincidence or divine intervention—he becomes, nevertheless, the city’s saving grace.

Firth, fresh off his Academy award win, is out of place in “Main Street.” His Southern drawl leaves his voice weak and disproportionate to the power his character represents. His speech is so withered that he seems to whisper his lines of dialogue, letting them crawl across the screen until they ultimately putter out and die.

While the premise of the film is an interesting and relevant one, the actual depiction of Foote’s idea falls flat at the hands of John Doyle, whose Broadway roots will not help him with his placement of the movie camera. However, it is fun to see the familiar faces of Ms. Burstyn, Mr. Firth, and Patricia Clarkson all in the same cinematic vehicle. For Horton Foote fans, this is a must see; for the rest of us, “Main Street” is a hopeful omen that there are still a few more dinner and movie dates to be had.

Remembering Elizabeth Taylor (1932-2011)

"Exit the Queen"

By: Jordan Overstreet
Published: April 4, 2011

“What can you say about a legend?” mused Paul Newman in a 2007 tribute to Elizabeth Taylor, who past away on March 23 from congestive heart failure. "So much has been written, so much has already been said for so many years about Elizabeth Taylor. Is there anything left to say?"

Well, I think there is, especially for those of you who are not familiar with the two-time Academy award-winning actress; but, like Newman, I’m not going to focus Ms. Taylor’s beauty. Simply enter her name into a Google image search and you will discover her unforgettable features—those violet-eyes and raven hair. What I do want discuss is Ms. Taylor’s legacy, what she brought to the screen and why many consider her passing to signify the death of era.

In a world of flickering lights and images, Elizabeth Taylor was a true star. Audiences were formally introduced to a 12-year-old Elizabeth in “National Velvet” (1942) and this meet-cute spawned a seven-decade long romance between fan and actress. She grew up on the screen, gracefully avoiding the awkward middle school ages, and we watched as she blossomed into a young woman in “A Place in the Sun” (1951) and later a leading lady in “Cleopatra” (1963).

Incidents in Ms. Taylor’s personal life, such as her eight marriages or infamous weight gain in the late 1970’s, had always seemed to imitate her art form. Due to her lack of theatrical training, her home studio, Metro Goldwyn Mayer, was careful to cast her only in films where her own life, or elements of it, was similar to that of the fictional heroine in the given motion picture. In fact her first marriage to hotelier Conrad “Nicky” Hilton, Jr. was arranged by MGM as a publicity stunt to promote her recent film “Father of the Bride.”

The lines between reality and fiction would continue to blur through the 1950’s as Ms. Taylor embarked on a romance a very attractive and very-married crooner, Eddie Fisher, who just happened to be the husband of her closest friend’s, Debbie Reynolds. (To simplify, think of Taylor as Angelina Jolie, Fisher as Brad Pitt, and Debbie as Jennifer Anniston). With the press coloring her behavior as wanton and immoral, Ms. Taylor’s onscreen persona seemed to mirror this, specifically in “BUtterfield 8” in which she plays an escort for hire.

Nonetheless, during the filming of “Cleopatra,” this fourth wall would ultimately be smashed to pieces when Liz met Dick. Ms. Taylor had found her match in a Welsh actor, Richard Burton, and much like that of Cleopatra and Marc Antony, was anything but swift and peaceful, considering both she and Burton where married to other people at the time. Spanning fourteen years, the tempestuous relationship between the two and is considered to be the most epic love story in Hollywood history: 11 feature films, the jewelry, the yachts, the booze, and a condemnation from the Vatican.

Playing lovers on the on screen appeared no different from being the Burtons in real life. When viewing “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” (1966) you wonder if Ms. Taylor and Burton every play these vicious games that their characters play. Are they actually George and Martha when the cameras stop rolling?

By blurring the lines between reality and fiction, Ms. Taylor removed the protection of the fourth wall and allows her spectator to connect with her. Thus, audiences were no longer alone in the dark with the characters on screen. They were alone with Elizabeth Taylor.

In an environment where the average career span is fifteen minuets, Elizabeth Taylor was a rare breed of celebrity. For over 70 years she managed to draw and captivate an international audience by sharing with them her most vulnerable side. She is the true definition of a movie star, giving so much of herself to both her fans and her various causes, specifically the fight against AIDS, for so little in return. If nothing else, there is applause and Elizabeth Taylor is most deserving of our appreciation.

Top Ten Must-See Elizabeth Taylor Films
1. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” (1966)
2. “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” (1958)
3. “A Place in the Sun” (1951)
4. “Suddenly Last Summer” (1959)
5. "BUtterfield 8" (1960)
6. “The Sandpiper” (1965)
7. "The Taming of the Shrew" (1967)
8. "Father of the Bride" (1950)
9. "X,Y, and Zee" (1972)
10. "Raintree County" (1957)

For further reading about Ms. Taylor check out Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger's book "Furious Love: Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and the Marriage of the Century" as well as Alexander Walker's "Elizabeth: The Life of Elizabeth Taylor"

Theatre Review: Hecuba (2011)

"Hecuba is Mad Againe"

By Jordan Overstreet

While many consider Anson Mount to be the most notable alumnus from the Theatre Sewanee program, it appears a woman has entered the theatrical wrestling ring and may possess the power to uproot Britney Spears’ leading man from his throne. This tour-de-force is Tarashai Lee, who triumphs as Hecuba in Theatre Sewanee’s recent production of Euripides’ classic tragedy.

Shedding her “Flavor of Love 2” television persona, Miss Lee adopts the trappings of a Trojan slave woman caught in a masculine chess game of violence where women are merely sacrificial pawns. While once the Queen of Troy, Hecuba’s majesty is nowhere to be found on the stage: she is dressed in rags, the set—minimal in its elements—has been stripped of regality by Grecian invaders, and the only possessions of value left to Hecuba are here children, Polydorus (Oliver Crawford) and Polyxena (Rebekah Hildebrant). As she loses both of her children over the course of the play, Miss Lee expertly channels the both grieving mother, embodying ever aspect of grief be it hysterical tears of cries of anguish, and the femme fatale, cleverly avenging her son’s death by puppeteering her male counterparts into submission.

But the power of Miss Lee’s performance is in her ability to completely transform into Hecuba down to her fingertips. When she cries, her face actually swells from the constant outpour of tears; when she lets out crescendos of grief, her shrieks are so natural that they become disturbing to witness; when she is forced to listen to the greedy soliloquies of Agamemnon (Anthony Caskey) or the King of Thrace (Buckner Hinkle), she listens like Hecuba, fully remaining in her character.

Consequently, when juxtaposed with Miss Lee, the abilities current Sewanee students involved in the production get diminished; they cannot eclipse her talent. However, Miss Lee does find equal scene partners in seniors, Tory Nettleton and Mr. Hinkle. Miss Nettleton, last seen as Kate in “Dancing at Lughnasa,” brings a mature, worldly reading to her role as the Chorus Leader, surpassing her choral companions in emotional depth and range.

Mr. Hinkle proves to be a match for Miss Lee. Identifying the King of Thrace as her son’s murderer, Hecuba lures the glutton to his doom with whispers of riches. As Miss Lee channels a siren as she sings these false prophecies into Mr. Hinkle’s ear and he slyly lies about her son’s whereabouts, the two fall into a duplicitous dance that ultimately leads Thrace to blindness. It is marriage of talents and their scenes together are the highlight of the play.

“Hecuba” from its first lines demands your focus. Director David Landon aesthetically layers the performance with fresh dialogue penned by Brown Foundation Fellow Poet-in-Residence, Marilyn Nelson, engaging visuals details, and an intriguing musical score by James Carlson; yet, despite being a true collaboration of the Sewanee community, “Hecuba” remains Tarashai Lee’s vehicle. Miss Lee’s honing of her skills since graduating in 2000 is further evidence of Sewanee’s capabilities as an institution; her divine performance is comforting and inspiring reminder that we, as a University, must be doing something right.

Film Review: Blue Valentine (2011)

"The Ballad of Love and Hate"

By Jordan Overstreet
Published: February 14, 2011

Its that time of year again when distributors flood the movie market with an endless supply of romantic motion pictures in hopes of capitalizing on February’s Hallmark holiday. These movies (note they are not films) share the same archetypal plot line: boy meets Katherine Heigel, they use each other for sex, and, forty five minuets later, boy and girl are in a exclusive relationship.

Great. Brilliant. But where’s the drama?

While lonely, sexually unsatisfied, and potentially cat owning women may buy into this formula, the rest of us pray to the movie gods for an honest depiction of a real relationship on screen. Ordained for this challenge, is art-house director Derek Cinefrance, whose new film, “Blue Valentine,” radiates like the Hope diamond atop black velvet in this pawnshop of romantic trifles.

Dancing on the line between love and hate, Cinefrance invites us to take a ride on the marital rollercoaster that is the union of Dean and Cindy (Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams). As the two continue to fall in and out of love, Cinefrance captures this buoyancy by weaving together the present narrative with past memories of happier times. Cinefrance juxtaposes times of peril with remembrances of joyous occasions, further blurring the line between love and hate.

Cinefrance first introduces us to the couple by illustrating their morning routine. As Dean (Ryan Gosling) polishes off what is to be the first of many beers, he surveys his backyard, only to find the family pet missing and the gate to her doghouse ajar. He examines the gate and with every fumble of the steel latch, his anger rises—someone forgot to close the gate—and we see Dean point the finger of blame to another. However, the arrival of his young daughter, Frankie (Faith Wladyka), forces Dean to mask his anger without expressing it—a tendency that will continue to undermine his communication with Cindy—and move on for his child’s expense.

The relationship between Dean and Frankie is one of playmates (they suck up cheerios off the breakfast table and eat eggs with their hands); and when Cindy enters the picture, she must be the serious parent and polices both Dean and Frankie’s behavior, proving that “three is a crowd.” In these first few minutes of the film, we recognize the problematic dynamic between the two: Dean and Cindy are no longer equals.

So what happened to push them to this breaking point?

Unfortunately, Cinefrance does not write a middle, but rather he relies on his comparison of the younger versions of Dean and Cindy with their present personas to answer this question. Dean first appears as a stark contrast to the deadbeat men in Cindy’s life. Unlike her father and previous boyfriend, Dean is completely devoted to Cindy and is willing to do anything for her love. However, these qualities that first attracted Cindy to him have now become the source of her disdain six years later. She desperately wants Dean to exercise his potential by finding a new occupation other than profession PBR drinker, yet all Dean aspires to be is a good husband to Cindy and a good father to Frankie. Once her rescuer, Dean he has now become her destroyer, and despite her best attempts to prevent it, the anger and resentment that imprisoned Cindy’s parents in a loveless marriage has now infected her home.

However, this notion that Dean, in someway, wronged Cindy is not well articulated and is actually undermined by Gosling’s presence. Cinefrance gives us both too little and too much information about Dean. His run-down, stagnant older self does not seem to stem from the idealistic youth Cindy first fell in love with; yet, this is not a flaw of Gosling’s method but rather a critique of Cinefrance’s dialogue. Cindy says too much while Dean says far too little.

Take for example when Dean is later accused of being a violent alcoholic by Cindy’s coworker. It is never articulated to the audience that he has a problem with alcohol; while he does consume his fair share of booze, Dean isn’t having a case race with himself. The coworker’s claim holds no logical merit, for Gosling power on screen tends to make you side with him, in spite of the tremendous performance that Williams gives. Cinefrance’s tendency to litter the film with multiple testimonies from various bystanders to Dean and Cindy’s relationship in no way helps to explain the issues at play; they merely interrupt the action and provide further obstacles for them to work out.

While I have no doubt that “Blue Valentine” will garner a youth following, it seems odd that such a film will speak to the Facebook generation. Unlike “The Graduate” or “Rebel Without a Cause,” which both constantly defy the notion that one will become one’s parents, “Blue Valentine” seems to conform to this fear. The end of Dean and Cindy is upsetting, yet the implication that we, too, will fail is far more devastating.


“Blue Valentine.”

Running time: 1 hour and 54 minutes. Rated R for strong graphic sexual content, language, and a beating. Now playing at Regal Green Hills 16 in Nashville.