Photo courtesy of Canal22 via Wikimedia Commons.
Natalie Portman, left, and Julianne Moore, right, with Todd Haynes, the director of “May December,” speaking at the 76th annual Cannes Film Festival in France. The film brings a new perspective to the topic of grooming and its long-lasting effects.
By Sarah Berger ’27
Staff Writer
Content warning: This article discusses sexual abuse of a minor.
The first few moments of “May December,” Todd Haynes’ new film for Netflix, are eerily peaceful — we see butterflies, then a brief shot of a school and then the exterior of a large house, complete with a white picket fence. Unfortunately, peace doesn’t stay.
The film is somewhat based on the true story of a teacher who groomed her 13-year-old student, although it takes place many years after the events it’s based on. Gracie (Julianne Moore), the teacher, and Joe (Charles Melton), her former student, are settled in, about to send their youngest children off to college. Their tenuous family dynamic is shaken when actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) visits to do research for an upcoming film on their relationship.
Despite the subject matter, the movie is far from exploitative. The choice to stay away from the beginning of Gracie and Joe’s relationship serves the film well because the viewer doesn’t necessarily enter with a negative outlook on Gracie. That makes the eventual buildup of her narcissism much more effective, because you gave her a chance — as undeserving as she may have been. Moore manages to encapsulate both insecurity and monstrosity perfectly. She teeters between anger at Elizabeth and a compulsive desire to best her.
The movie is improved by its unwillingness to be black and white. Although Gracie is clearly the villain, Elizabeth is no hero. As much as Gracie wants to best Elizabeth, Elizabeth wants to win right back. Joe is perhaps the only character who is unwaveringly innocent, and rightfully so.
Melton does an excellent job of portraying Joe’s long-term adolescence. His movements are childlike, and he seeks approval from everyone, from his neighbors to his children to Gracie. In a particularly moving scene, he smokes with his son and cries in his arms, professing his desire to protect him. He never outwardly expresses anger, but rather an adolescent uncertainty. Was he too young for the relationship? Would he want the same for his children? How could his parents have allowed it? Is he any older now? The film creates space for the viewer to ponder these questions rather than answering them outright.
Although the film lulls in some moments, it thrives in its portrayal of Gracie's internal state. She provides cutting critique to others masquerading as help but sobs when something as small as selling a cake doesn’t go her way. Some of Gracie’s children openly resent her, while others quietly subvert her authority. Her neighbors and community do their best to keep her occupied, and Joe has to tiptoe around her emotions and reaffirm that it was him, not her, that initiated their relationship.
The cast has some notable experience with the film’s subject matter, both in previous works and in real life. Melton is best known for starring in Riverdale, a show that distorts adolescence into something salaciously unrecognizable. Perhaps it's fitting that he went from playing an adult-like teenager to an adult robbed of his adolescence. Portman herself was victimized by a radio station when she was a teenager, which started a countdown on her 13th birthday to when she’d be 18 and supposedly “legal” to engage in sexual activity. Perhaps the film is cathartic for her since she both fights a predator and assumes the role for herself, albeit at an artistic distance.
“Melton is best known for starring in Riverdale, a show that distorts adolescence into something salaciously unrecognizable. Perhaps it’s fitting that he went from playing an adult-like teenager to an adult robbed of his adolescence. ”
Ultimately, “May December” is a new take on a tired trope. A new teacher-student movie isn’t a cultural necessity, and Haynes seems to recognize it. He provides an excellent examination of the aftermath of catastrophe, which, although as thrilling as its predecessors, does an apt job of showing the real consequences of grooming: lives quietly scarred.