Much to Gracie’s (Julianne Moore) dismay, Elizabeth (Natalie Portman) pulls up to the backyard BBQ with her big movie star sunglasses on, blocking half of her face.  Elizabeth, though, is the guest of honor, an actress invited to spend time with Gracie and her family as part of her research before she portrays the matriarch in an upcoming movie.  Some 20 years prior, Gracie made the tabloid headlines when she was caught with her underaged co-worker, Joe (Charles Melton), in the storage closet of the local pet store.  Marriage and three children later, the tight family unit begins to crack as Elizabeth probes their dynamic to get a better understanding of Gracie in preparation for her role. 

Todd Haynes directs May December from a masterful script penned by Samy Burch that examines the intersection of life and art – the pursuit of truth – more so than that of the torrid affair at the center.  With incredible performances from the leading trio, the film was hesitantly received during its debut at the Cannes Film Festival where it premiered in competition, and while the Palme ultimately evaded the film, it did leave France with a distribution deal from Netflix.  The 117-minute film is loosely inspired by the Mary Kay Letourneau case, but as ultimately a work of fiction Burch and Haynes are afforded the liberty, along with the cast, to explore the difficult emotions associated with these scandals while enjoying the comfort of artifice. It finds itself somewhere in the center of being a lighter yet no-less-layered version of Todd Field‘s In the Bedroom (2001), but because it is a fiction wrapped in fiction, it does not feel as malicious as Robert Greene’s Kate Plays Christine (2016) that employs a similar actress preparing for a role framing.  

The search for the truth, not of the story, but the truth of emotion, is the main goal of the film, and it proves to be an ever-elusive concept for all involved.  Gracie puts on a strong front, but at night cries to her husband who seems unsure of how to handle the much older woman’s emotions.  Elizabeth begins to piece together the Gracie puzzle only to receive conflicting reports from everyone in the woman’s orbit.  Joe is seemingly overcome with doubts about his life, but puts on the mask of a good husband when Gracie is around for her and their children’s sake.  Haynes is all too aware of the lies that course through this otherwise tight-knit family, and relishes every chance to point Christopher Blauvelt’s camera at the various mirrors that are always reflecting back at the (un?)happy family an image of their own creation.  What makes this exercise work is that Burch’s script does not point fingers at the all too easy target of Gracie, rather, through Elizabeth, she seeks to genuinely understand who Gracie is, and through that investigation, one version of the truth is revealed.  As the story unfolds, one of the more fascinating things to witness is how, through Affonso Gonçalves’ editing the well-intentioned Elizabeth becomes a threatening force, upending the pseudo-nuclear family unit; she is not the only actor of the bunch. 

Films about filmmaking or actors and “The Process” can often time teeter into a navel-gazey territory that is off-putting for most as few have tolerance for self-aggrandizing in any form.  Couple that with the universally scorned concept of a middle-aged woman engaging in an affair with a middle schooler, May December seemingly starts from behind the eight ball in capturing an audience, but Portman and Moore work excellently under Haynes direction who is no stranger to provoking his audiences while simultaneously fascinating them.   

Gracie is the glorious sun of the film in that all the characters orbit around her.  Moore gives the woman a whispering voice, afflicted by a subtle lisp, and while we are never given any indication that this is a front to help gain sympathy, it nevertheless gives the character a juvenile, youthful element; that she is the victim of a scornful society.  Despite this, she is never one to be caught off guard as evidenced in her final words to Elizabeth at the end of the twin’s graduation ceremony.  There are few moments, if any, where she ever really raises her voice or lets us into her psyche as she prides herself on staying busy and being put together, but as Elizabeth learns, she is a vicious, brutal woman.  Appearances are vital for her who gifted her older daughter a scale for graduation, so she is very careful about what she tells Elizabeth who is seeking to uncover some secret detail, but we can never fully trust Gracie’s accounts of things given how meticulously she has curated the memories that she shares. 

It is a very balanced script and both women have very difficult and unique roles in the drama.  Portman is the conduit from which the narrative takes its shape as she investigates Gracie’s life, oftentimes standing next to the woman in a mirror, stalking and mimicking her prey.  While the role of the interviewer is an inherently passive and giving one, Portman is afforded by the nature of the story – an actress emulating a performance – many opportunities to break rank and take control of the scene and situation; backstepping when she discovers to have crossed a line, reasserting, and moving forward.  Her performance all culminates in a showstopping sequence late in the film when she rehearses a scene as Gracie alone in her room, finally feeling confident in her portrayal having unlocked the woman’s desires and secrets.  Portman is framed tight by the camera in this scene against a dark background, looking directly down the lens, adopting Gracie’s speech patterns, and trying to seduce us. 

For as much as the film focuses on Elizabeth as she transforms into Gracie, the third act specifically brings Joe and his plight of a stolen youth into focus.  Having fathered three children with Gracie and marrying the woman when her jail sentence was finished, the weight of the life ahead begins to really pull the young man down as he questions his relationship and begins to seek a way out.  In a way, his is the most complex and challenging role of the triptych because of how it is revealed in a simmer, slowly at first until this crisis is too big to ignore any longer.  Milton is already being recognized by some of the early awards bodies for his performance, and rightfully so.  His work in the third act as he allows Joe to take control in a much more bombastic, masculine way creates a stark difference from how Gracie and Elizabeth connive their way into winning situations.  Like his two costars, Joe is a very flawed and complicated being who is incredibly easy to sympathize with but also, through his own actions across the narrative as a 36-year-old with full agency, he is so easy to look at with scorn. 

This fracture mostly occurs in the springtime sunlight, however, Elizabeth seemingly prefers to prowl at night.  The times of day are unified though Marcelo Zarvos’ score, adapted from Michel Legrand’s work on The Go-Between (1971), as it bellows across the action of the film, the minor keys of the piano striking with force, ringing out like an alarm.  Danger.  It is so simple yet so evocative and while a note would struggle to be missed given its frigid timbre, it matches the secretive tone of the film so perfectly.  Mixed with the wistful camera movements, this lyrical approach does not salve the purposeful discomfort of the narrative or the pain these people are experiencing, rather, it enhances it.  The beauty is a trap, much like Gracie herself.  

May December is a challenging work, yet so welcoming to audiences at the same time because the kernels of the story are focused on the human fallout and not the scandal.  Haynes is a little heavy-handed with his visual metaphors – mirrors representing the truth and the butterflies representing growth – but he employs them masterfully, weaving them into the tapestry of the scene so it does not feel obtrusive.  Through unreliable narrators, May December still finds the emotional core of the film that feels almost like a litmus test for audiences in who and what they choose to believe.  It is a fascinatingly layered story of broken people, and while Haynes and Burch are not looking to absolve any of these three of their transgressions, they treat them with a curious kindness.  With exceptionally strong performances throughout, May December is not consistently funny enough to be a dark comedy despite many elements pointing towards that way, but it still teases at the Lifetime movie concept too much to be an out-and-out drama.  Unlike the tabloids which play a prominent part in the film, May December is seeking to dissect and understand a salacious media frenzy instead of exploiting and ridiculing this family any further. In this way, the film is a tragedy, and somehow, audiences may come away feeling empathy more than anything.