Poor Things

I was pleasantly surprised with 2023's POOR THINGS, a film with near universal acclaim.  These days, that's often a red flag.  It's rare anymore to find true, adventurous, fearless cinema, but here we are.  And director Yorgos Lanthimos' latest manages to feel both cinematic and literary.   Original, too, though it is impossible not be reminded of many other films.  Yet, despite its familiar themes - some highly debatable tenets of femininity and feminism - a piece all its own. 

Bella's (Emma Stone) behavior is awfully childlike.  We learn this is because she was implanted with the brain of an infant.  Her's.  You see, Bella was once known as Victoria Blessington, a sad (and pregnant) woman who leapt off a bridge.  Surgeon Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe) found her and transplanted the fetus' brain in place of her own.  An experiment that reveals Bella's rapidly developing intelligence.  She will call her new guardian, "god". 

Med student Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef) becomes Baxter's lab assistant and Bella's fiance.  But when lascivious attorney Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo) arrives to draw up the nuptial contract, he invites Bella to run off to Lisbon to discover the world.  She accepts, essentially to satisfy her wanderlust and sow her wild oats before marriage.  For the latter, she goes full throttle.  POOR THINGS is not timid with its sex scenes.  Surprisingly explicit in these sensitive times.  

Bella's journey around the globe will foster her emerging sexuality and intellect.  Some viewers may disagree with Yorgos' and screenwriter Tony McNamara's (who adapted Alasdair Gray's novel) demonstration of empowerment - having Bella become a prostitute.  We've seen this before, in films like BELLE DU JOUR, and remains an arguable point.  Does a woman who sells her sexuality for money truly have the upper hand? Is she merely exploited? Even as she is fully aware of her scenario? And can she actually find love in between orgasms? Would that be considered unenlightened? Indentured?

Plenty to mull over.  I haven't mentioned the film's examination of socialism.   Initially, most viewers will be overwhelmed by the incredible production design that evokes memories of Terry Gilliam extravaganzas.  Some will be reminded of Tim Burton, Federico Fellini, Wes Anderson, and maybe even Guillermo del Toro.   Robbie Ryan's photography, sometimes on film, sometimes in black and white, is always an eyeful. 

Stone, as you probably know, copped an Oscar and deservedly so.  Her performance is as eccentric as the visuals and Jerskin Fendrix's rather disturbing score.  Ruffalo really embraces the broad, mostly to good effect; he too seems free from his usual persona.  Having Dafoe in your movie lends automatic cred and he's wonderful as always.  It seems I need to go back and watch Lanthimos' other things, as his work here is some of the best I've seen in 21st century cinema.