A dinner table has often proven to be a riveting dramatic
setting for film-makers working on shoe-string budgets. From chamber thrillers
to low-key philosophy-mumbling dramas, semi-formal dinner parties could elicit
spectacular clash of ideas. Director Miguel Arteta and writer Mike White’s
quasi-satirical drama Beatriz at Dinner (2017) uses the dinner party excuse to pit
a conscientious, hard-working ethical immigrant against a table full of nauseatingly rich
people who perfectly fits the definition of ‘obnoxious one-percenters’. Arteta
and White’s previous creative collaboration includes pitch-black indie comedy
Chuck &Buck (2000) and the reasonably good 2002 dramedy The Good Girl
(Jennifer Aniston delivers one of her best performances). Both the films are
comedy of manners with an incisive tragic layer attached to it. The
writer-director’s third collaboration is designed as a mordant allegory of
Trump-era politics, but the incoherent script and on-the-nose social commentary
stops it from fully harvesting the ingenuity of the setting. Nevertheless, the
end result is definitely watchable, powered by Salma Hayek’s intuitive
performance.
The film opens with Beatriz’s (Salma Hayek) dream of the
mangrove swamps in her small town which is supposedly destroyed by the real-estate
developers. She alarmingly wakes to the bleating sound of her goat, enclosed in
a pen within the bedroom. Beatriz lives in Altadena, California amidst her pet goat and
dogs. Buddha and Virgin Mary decorate her car dashboard and rear-view mirror
respectively. The first few minutes traces Beatriz’s routine which involves
working at alternative clinic that treats cancer and other terminal disease patients.
Beatriz is a massage therapist, spiritual healer, and a truly empathetic
person. An emotion of hurt and pain passes over her face while seeing
cancer-afflicted patients or gazing at the billowing smokestacks or while noticing the patch of
oil scarring the glorious view of Pacific Ocean. She almost comes off as a
saint, until she visits her long-time rich private client Kathy (Connie Britton). Kathy lives in a high-end luxurious gated-community of Newport Beach
with her insensate husband Grant (David Warshofsky). Beatriz has helped Kathy’s
15 year old daughter to survive from the agonies of cancer and exhaustion of
chemotherapy. Now the girl is doing her
college and Kathy considers Beatriz as ‘part of the family’. On this particular
day, the wealthy couple is hosting a small dinner party to celebrate the
success of major land development. Kathy has requested a rub-down to freshen-up
for the upcoming party.
During the massage session, Beatriz reveals how, despite the
saint-like posture, her life isn’t exactly ideal. It’s been a long time since
she is displaced from her picturesque Mexican small town. Although she isn’t
blessed with a human companion, she finds solace in tending her animals.
But recently Beatriz’s beloved goat has been killed by a bullying neighbor.
Later, when her car breaks down, Kathy immediately invites Beatriz to stay for
dinner, pleading the insolent husband to place 'the healer' at dinner table of
moneyed people. First to arrive is young power-hungry couple: Alex (Jay Duplass) and Shannon (Chloe Sevigny). Before conversing with the couple,
Beatriz hugs them trying to establish a soulful connection. While Beatriz raves
about holistic healing, the couple hijacks the conversation with their slightly
patronizing comments. Then the important guest of honor arrives: loutish,
Trumpian land encroacher Doug Strutt (John Lithgow) with his wife Jeana (Amy Landecker). Beatriz's initial efforts to engage in conversation with the women
leads to simple comic situations, the comedy is in witnessing Salma Hayek’s
bewildering looks. Beatriz talks of elemental energies, whereas the other
ladies fervently gossip about the leaked nudes of a reality TV star. The narrative
turns into social drama territory when Doug demands a drink from Beatriz,
assuming she was ‘part of the staff’. After the formal introduction, Doug’s
irritable behavior towards Beatriz doesn’t necessarily cool off. And, the
dinner only gets heated-up by their uncomfortable verbal exchanges.
Salma Hayek relishes the chance of playing an unglamorous,
odd-one-out character. Her Beatriz doesn’t believe in empty exchanges and
frustrating societal niceties. She just wants to talk about authentic human
feelings or nature and animals, while the myopic view of the rich guests &
hosts desires the prospects of acquisitions, mergers and debauched memoirs.
Hayek’s internal performance brilliantly conveys this conflict of interest.
Although some dialogues come off as preachy, Hayek convincingly delivers the
words, inciting us to root for her righteous fury. I feel that none of the
characters are profoundly shaped. The problem is their broadly emphasized,
dichotomized stance (healer vs destroyers). If not for the excellent ensemble
(John Lithgow is effective as unrepentant one-percenter), the characters would
be more of one-note personalities than what they are in the reasonably better final product (the
performances doesn’t entirely transcend their caricatured portrayal but it’s sobering
enough to keep us engrossed).
Arteta’s intense frames ably immerse us deep into Beatriz’s
feelings of unease. Wyatt Garfield’s cinematography, despite the largeness of
the mansion, instills a sense of claustrophobia. Even Beatriz’s brief sojourn outside
the house or to the tow-truck brings a sense of relief. Mike White’s script
sharply addresses the casual, fine-tuned showcase of racism and white
supremacy. The rift between accepted social behavior and morality leads to
certain interesting observations (for example, Doug’s bragging about his
upsurge of primal blood-lust). Furthermore, the moments like when Doug
peevishly questions Beatriz’ place in racial ladder (“Where are you ‘really’
from?”) cuts a little deeper than the blunt environmental & political
commentary that tinges the later part of the narrative. The vignettes of verbal
encounters puts Beatriz in a truly overwhelming position, but her ultimate disentanglement from this position was wholly dissatisfying.
Trailer
Within a lean running time of 82 minutes, Beatriz at Dinner
definitely posits plenty of intriguing moments and affecting performances.
Perhaps it could have been a sharper social satire, if the occasional
sermonizing tone and the incoherent denouement are done away with.
No comments:
Post a Comment