flipp525 wrote
I think it was Mister Tee who pointed toward Cassie’s monologue at the end to Al Monroe that ultimately sells the friendship with Nina and what it meant to Cassie, something which I very much “believed” at that point.
Sabin, I also thought the movie improved upon a second or third viewing.
I like Promising Young Woman more now, however i question deciding to reveal Cassie's motivations as plot points, because really that's what the film is doing. Yes, it connects those moments to major moments in the film that are emotionally tied to the film. For example, we learn about Nina for the first time when Cassie is speaking to the Dean. Now, that scene would play repetitive if we already knew so the reveal packs a huge punch when the Dean is confronted with a possibly identical situation. That's smart writing... but it's also frustrating for the forty-five minutes prior. We learn about Cassie's relationship with Nina/what makes her special during her "confrontation" with Al Monroe. He's somebody who has put her behind him and Cassie is someone who can't let go of her so we/the audience are understanding it for the first time with him, which essentially places us/the viewer in the same place as Al Monroe, which is to say it's a movie that doesn't let us off the hook. That's effective, smart writing but it's also emotionally detached for anyone who wants to be along for the ride with Cassie. And both things can be true that the film's intentions are at odds with said emotional connection admirably but frustratingly. Yes, at that point, but it's also a movie that withholds the emotional reason for anything until the very end of the film. I mean... that's a wild choice as a writer. There’s a schematic quality to her writing, but (again) to her credit she’s not just dumping exposition as plot points. She’s pairing them with pivotal moments to give it more weight.
On the other hand, a film critic friend of mine saw it at Sundance and is astonished it's doing as well as it is this awards season because he never remotely saw it as a contender. Maybe that's the best way to view it: as a feminist revenge thriller first and foremost. It is genre successful on those grounds.
Nina's Mother which serves as the film's sole emotional portal into her relationship with Nina that plays so stripped to the bones that it can barely be believed.
I think it was Mister Tee who pointed toward Cassie’s monologue at the end to Al Monroe that ultimately sells the friendship with Nina and what it meant to Cassie, something which I very much “believed” at that point.
Sabin, I also thought the movie improved upon a second or third viewing.
"The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely in her shoulders. She was twenty five and looked it."
Watched Promising Young Woman again. Knowing what Cassie does do and what she doesn’t do ahead of time made it easier for me to track her as a human. It’s a tease but that doesn’t diminish what is pretty remarkable about the film, which is how it refuses to let men off the hook, starting with The Nice Guys. I initially felt a vacuum in the shape of Cassie's friendship with Nina but Emereld Fennell does haunt the first act with framed pictures of Nina that rewards the attentive and patient viewer. It's a bold move to wait forty-five minutes to inform the audience what happened to Nina (Robert McKee's "Pinch Point") and essentially keeping the audience away from her journey for a third of the film, but I'll also say that knowing where the film ultimately goes makes it easier to appreciate the fact that the entire film is basically staged as a warpath rather than wondering what the warpath is.
I did a little digging around on wikipedia and I found this:
"There was a deleted scene showing Cassie with a bruise from an encounter with a potential date rapist that had put her in danger. Cassie documented those dangerous encounters with a red mark in her notebook."
How on Earth was not in the film? I mean, truly. The notebook is started as a device that we're meant to clock and then it just goes away. There is a television quality to some of Emerald Fennell's instincts that I can't shake. For example, it's clear that she means to (by the midpoint) shake Cassie's nerves to continue which means she has a surprising encounter with a culpable party (Alfred Molina's judge) which makes her lose her killer instinct, as well as Nina's Mother which serves as the film's sole emotional portal into her relationship with Nina that plays so stripped to the bones that it can barely be believed. Fennell's instincts are strong in how she shapes this narrative but those two scenes play terribly. There are choices that are made first and foremost to grab and hold interest regardless of human believability.
What played better for me this time was Cassie as a character. Instead of admiring Carey Mulligan's performance, her character came more into view. She deserves a lot of credit for making Cassie's motivations clear despite having no voice-over or true confidante. Also stronger is the romantic comedy angle between Mulligan and Burnham. She has a better vulnerability around him than I initially gave credit for. I don't know if Bo Burnham is a great actor but he is as perfectly cast in this film as anyone. Their scenes are admittedly played as cliche but that's the point. The allure of believing in simple movie romance is meant to pull Cassie off the warpath. I don't really have a problem with the ending because the entire thrust of the plot pivots around Cassie's conviction which after seeing the tape couldn't have been bolstered more. But there's an inevitability to it. It might be a bit broader than the rest of the film but it's a big swing.
Anyway, yes, much improved.
NOTE: when Cassie goes to speak to Dean Walker about Nina and Al Monroe... is that a portrait of James Monroe is hanging over them?
Because I opted to wait for DVD release (and save the $20 pay-per-view charge), I'm last to see this -- and also apparently among the most enthusiastic. I think this is a pretty terrific little film, easily among the best of 2020's paltry line-up. It's natural to be reminded of Thelma and Louise, another film that expressed female rage with vitality and wit. But there's a key difference: Thelma was to a great degree passing class judgment on its male characters (the film's problem with some of them was just how crass and vulgar they were). Here, the male culprits are of the same general social group as their female victims -- part of "our crowd". In Thelma, "they" were at fault; here, it's "us". Which is a tougher, and more painful, subject to tackle.
It also makes for a much knottier storyline. (AND I CAN'T AVOID GETTING INTO SPOILERS ABOUT THIS, SO BEWARE.) When we first meet Cassandra, we don't know quite what she's up to -- I'm not sure even she is. I never assumed, as some apparently did, that she was killing the men she lured into taking her home. But it was hard to see what exactly she had in mind with this very risky behavior -- behavior more apt to leave her harmed than the guys. I'd argue, at this point in the film, she was mostly in a self-destructive spiral, caused by the (then unspecified) event in her past -- an event we were going to learn about slowly, in pieces.
The arrival of Burnham at her place of work lets us know, by inference, a few things about that event -- her wincing at names like Madison and Al Monroe make it clear they're involved -- and also gives her life a focus it hadn't had till then. He not only reminds her of the life she lost; he lets her know people she deems culpable for it have gone on to happy, utterly unpunished lives. And she can't abide that. So, her vengeance tour switches -- it's no longer any-guy-will-do-to-humiliate; it's now specifically aimed at these people she deems responsible.
But then the movie throws us an initially confusing curve: we (or at least I) had been assuming Cassie herself was the victim in this past event. But, in her scene with the dean, which at last articulates just what happened, she cites someone named Nina as the injured party. At first, I thought she was using a fake name for some reason...but it quickly became clear the name was legit, and Nina was the woman violated. Which changes everything: Cassie's vendetta is no longer a self-vindication; it's in the name of another. Which is key to understanding the rest of the movie.
Because i disagree with those who argue below that Cassie's behavior or motivation is murky. I think it's clear from here on, and especially by the end of the movie, that Cassie's entire life is marked by the fact that she lost the woman she loved. I don't think this necessarily means Cassie is/was gay; it's entirely possible for a primary love object in your life to be someone you're simply not physically wired to desire sexually. But Nina is undeniably -- and has been since childhood -- the most important person in Cassie's life, her mentor, the one who made her feel she counted in life. And losing her -- first mentally, after the rape, then existentially., after her apparent suicide -- has left Cassie's life bereft.
Which, for me, makes every element of Cassie's quest come together. In the early scenes, she faces the bar-guys boldly because, on some level, she doesn't care if they kill her, as the best part of her (both Nina physically, and the confidence Nina imparted to her which was stolen away by the rape and aftermath) is already dead. Her feints against Madison, Alfred Molina's lawyer, and the dean are attempts to avenge Nina...but Cassie discovers about herself that she doesn't have the killer instinct -- she stops short of the ultimate punishment she initially seemed prepared to deliver. (With Molina, you can literally see her deciding he's already punished himself in a way more severe than she could ever inflict on him.) She makes people face up to what they did, but can't let herself become as evil as they by carrying out cruel vengeance.
But then there's Al Monroe, the problem still left out there to resolve. I think maybe she was half-willing to let him skate, on the basis she'd already done enough in Nina's cause. But her exposure to the video, her discovery of Burnham's passive culpability -- that makes her realize she has to follow this trail of vengeance to its natural end. And, on some level, she has to be aware, and willing to accept, that it could lead to her death.
I will say that this final sequence is a very debatable matter. I was, like I suppose many, shocked at what Al did to her, and not 100% sure about the denouement. It struck me that this is the work of a 21st century TV writer, trained in keeping the audience pleasured even if it sacrifices some level of ultimate truth. Consider: the film might have ended after the cop interviewed Burnham, and we focused on his face. We know he knows what happened to Cassie, but that his fear of being implicated prevents him from letting that truth come out. It would have been a very dark ending. Going on, as we did, to the wedding, and Monroe's comeuppance, is a bit audience-pander-y. The "You didn't think this is how it would end?" text to Burnham is a wink at the audience as much as Burnham (though it is somewhat redeemed by the subsequent "Love, Cassie and Nina", which tells us the two are finally reunited, and confirms my view this is essentially a love story). Put it this way: the ending is clever and satisfying, but it feels a notch less genuine than the story that preceded.
I couldn't help laughing at the grotesquely inappropriate use of Rodgers and Hammerstein while Al & Joe buried Cassie. Then it struck me that the song in question, in The King and I, was someone telling Anna that, yes, the King has behaved horribly here, but you have to let it go, because he's a man capable of great things -- which is pretty much the argument the dean made about Al Monroe.
And, though it's on the edge of too-much, I liked that the necklace, which provides the evidence to destroy Al, is literally pieces of Cassie's broken heart.
I think Mulligan is just sensational in this. Emerald Fennell has given her wonderful dialogue -- her banter with Burnham is full of sprightly wit (which they both handle beautifully), and then her takedowns of those she's cornered (the nerdy would-be rapist, the dean, finally Al Monroe) are pointed and lacerating. That speech to Monroe is worth an Oscar all on its own.
I guess there are "holes" in the plot, as people here have claimed (without specifying). You could ask how Madison was still unsure about what happened when she'd obviously seen the tape...or how, exactly, Al was convicted, when anyone on scene might have committed the murder? But these seem to me small nits, when confronted with such an expansive fascinating piece of work. I think this is one of the most exciting directorial debuts in quite a while.
I thought you were calling me an old fart by referring to "the old days."
Your friend is exactly right.
I'm not saying Mulligan will lose Academy votes because they're going to find her outspokenness distasteful, rather that she was making a mountain out of a molehill. They've all been there. There isn't a single actor or actress who hasn't been hurt by something someone wrote about them at one time or another, which is why so many of them no longer read their own reviews.
Basically, I liked the film despite its shortcomings of which there are quite a few as I laid out in my previous post. It's a fairy tale - the good guys win in the end. In real life the bullies win. They become powerful TV and film figures, U.S. Congressmen, Senators, Supreme Court Justices and yes, Presidents. Some get toppled, but many live out their lives laughing all the way to the bank. Life isn't always fair.
Awards should be based on performance. Mulligan's performance is strong enough to win on its own. It doesn't need to be spun as a stand for all vulnerable women or whatever it is she and her handlers are trying to make of it beyond what there is on the screen.
Okay, so I just talked to my critic friend. Before I tell you his thoughts:
- I should have said "rape culture," not date rape. However, she does in the movie routinely pretend to be drunk and not consent to sexual advances that are forced onto her. She is not a femme fatale. She is somebody in those situations conveyed as a femme fatale and Harvey said he had difficulty believing her in the part, etc.
- My "in the old days..." comment was a failed joke. Basically, Magilla is saying she should just let it go and not make a fuss. Which is ironic in the context of a film about rape culture.
I won't divulge the name of the critic because he wants to stay out of it. Here are his thoughts:
"This is entirely Variety's fault. The reason we have editors is so that we don't accidentally say the wrong thing. What they could have done following the problematic review was assign another critic to the film, perhaps a woman, and just give it another review. Instead, they threw him under the bus and built up the controversy by attaching a stupid disclaimer to the top which throws him under the bus needlessly. This whole thing has been overblown. I am not afraid of losing my job. I am afraid that we're going to get bought by some hedge-fund assholes and they're going to downsize us. This industry is a dumpster fire."
Anyway, without belaboring the point any longer you're saying that Carey Mulligan will lose votes with Academy voters because they're going to find this outspokenness distasteful. Which is something that literally didn't occur to me. I had the opposite response, thinking that this would actually help her because it makes her film even more relevant.
Variety has editors like every other newspaper. If they find something they think is inappropriate, the time to deal with it is before the article is approved for publication, not eleven months later when an A-list actress they are courting for a podcast complains to another newspaper about it.
You would think that if the comment about Mulligan's hair and makeup in one scene of a film for which he otherwise praised her performance, was so offensive, one of the many senior editors at Variety, all of whom are women, would have said something before a male reporter at the New York Times made an issue of it so long after the fact.
I wonder what Sabin's editor friend would do if an A-list actor or actress complained to another site about about a comment one of his writers had made eleven months earlier.
It wasn't censored. It was left to stand with a disclaimer. That's a trigger warning, not a censorship. Variety, as a private corporation, has every right to reject or unpublish anything they print. It's not censorship. That's what a lot of men use as a defense when someone tries to hold them accountable for what they say. They bitch about censorship or the cancel culture or 1st amendment rights and blithely ignore the notion that being called out or held accountable for what you say isn't censorship. It's consequences. That's a totally different thing.
And it plays right into the exact premise of Promising Young Women. These are all the kinds of toxic excuses men make to excuse their action. And not just men. White people use it when saying racist things. Straight people use them when saying or doing homophobic or transphobic things.
What Sabin says is correct. Refusing to acknowledge and listen when someone tells you something offends them is essentially like apologizing saying: "I apologize if you were offended." It's not an apology. I know that Tee has spoken on this subject several times. The non-apology is a political maneuver to make it sound like you're apologizing while never admitting fallibility. It's no better than refusing to apologize at all. That just makes you a Trumpite.
Wesley Lovell
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both." - Benjamin Franklin
Sabin wrote:He’s criticizing her effectiveness as a femme fatale. He’s missing the point that she isn’t a femme fatale. She’s a date rape victim who acts like one.
Was Cassie also a date rape victim? I thought it was her friend who was the victim who commits suicide after getting raped.
Sabin wrote:Also, you keep saying censorship. I don't know what you're talking about it. It went to print in the end, right?
I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't use that word. His review wasn't censored, but if you go to Variety or IMD.b or some other site that references the review you will see the disclaimer at the top of the review.
By doubling down, I thought you meant that Harvey continued to defend his review in general, not that he continued to say the same dumb thing about about her hair and makeup. That would be stupid.
Big Magilla wrote
If Mulligan doesn't add any more fuel to the fire, she'll probably be alright, but if she keeps bringing it up voters may look elsewhere when filling out their ballots. Insensitive things have been said about just about any actor or actress at one time or another. Most shrug them off. Many stop reading reviews for that very reason.
"In the old days..."
Again, I have no idea what you're talking about. It's not an "old days" things. Many of today's actors refuse to read reviews of their own films.
Sabin wrote:He’s criticizing her effectiveness as a femme fatale. He’s missing the point that she isn’t a femme fatale. She’s a date rape victim who acts like one.
Was Cassie also a date rape victim? I thought it was her friend who was the victim who commits suicide after getting raped.
Big Magilla wrote
He's doubling down because he thinks he's going to be fired.
If he doubles down, he deserves to be fired. Doubling down is the dumbest thing you can do when you actually did the thing you were accused of doing. I will explain why: for the most part, the only time people get cancelled or fired is when their offense signals an underlying concern about who they really are on the inside. Al Franken is the only exception I can think of however it also applies to him. James Gunn had old tweets earthed up, lost Guardians of the Galaxy, apologized, shut the fuck up for a few months, and then got a new Suicide Squad movie. I maintain if Louis C.K. apologized, truly meant, said "Yeah, I did screwed up stuff, I'm going to get some help," and then went away for a couple of years instead of doing sets mocking the Parkland kids, he might even be able to come back too. Nobody cares about this critic or knows who he is or has an opinion about him. If he just apologized (actually before that: if he actually listened), nobody would care. Even Carey Mulligan barely cared. But instead, he's saying that he didn't do anything wrong which makes him obstinate.
Big Magilla wrote
Other critics are concerned because they fear the same censorship from their editors.
My best friend in life is a white male professional film critic AND editor of his site. A well-known one among younger circles. He has never worried about losing his job for one second, except to the job itself no longer existing. He has worried about his older employees losing their jobs for failing to police themselves.
Also, you keep saying censorship. I don't know what you're talking about it. It went to print in the end, right?
Big Magilla wrote
If Mulligan doesn't add any more fuel to the fire, she'll probably be alright, but if she keeps bringing it up voters may look elsewhere when filling out their ballots. Insensitive things have been said about just about any actor or actress at one time or another. Most shrug them off. Many stop reading reviews for that very reason.
He's doubling down because he thinks he's going to be fired. Other critics are concerned because they fear the same censorship from their editors.
If Mulligan doesn't add any more fuel to the fire, she'll probably be alright, but if she keeps bringing it up voters may look elsewhere when filling out their ballots. Insensitive things have been said about just about any actor or actress at one time or another. Most shrug them off. Many stop reading reviews for that very reason.
