By Alex McPherson

A grueling, disorienting, and horrific reimagining of the life of Norma Jeane Baker, who became Marilyn Monroe, director Andrew Dominik’s “Blonde” ultimately proves to be a case of excessive, at times exploitative, style over substance.

Based on the novel of the same name by Joyce Carol Oates, “Blonde” isn’t a traditional biopic in any sense, instead plunging viewers into a hallucinatory, David Lynchian hellhole that never lets up for its whopping 2-hour-and-46-minute runtime. Viewers begin with the child Norma Jeane (Lily Fisher, effective in her few scenes), living in Los Angeles with her single, alcoholic, mentally unstable mother, Gladys (Julianne Nicholson), while a fire rages outside in the Hollywood Hills.

Norma Jeane’s absentee father is apparently a bigshot in TinselTown, but she’s never met him, prompting trauma and insecurity that persistently haunt her throughout her life. Gladys, losing her mind and desperate to find him, then nearly drowns Norma Jeane in a bathtub, only to release her at the last second and let her escape to the next-door neighbors.

Flash forward a bit, and Norma Jeane is sent to an orphanage against her will. Flash forward again, and the “Marilyn Monroe” persona has been born, with Ana de Armas portraying our heroine with admirable, if misguided, fervor. Scarred by her horrible childhood, manipulated by devilish studio executives to advance her career, entering one corrosive relationship after another, being frequently underestimated, experiencing drug addiction, and remaining unable to separate her personal life from her public, hyper-sexualized persona, Norma Jeane’s life is tough, to say the least, and draining to watch unfold.  

Indeed, despite Dominik’s stylistic bravado and de Armas’ transformational performance, “Blonde” is difficult to recommend. This is an NC-17 rated film, and Dominik goes all-out depicting Norma Jeane’s abuse by practically everyone surrounding her. It’s too bad that far less attention is given to the character herself, reducing her to a victim sans agency, and robbing her of three-dimensionality that would have lent poignancy to the film’s onslaught of terrors. 

At least de Armas gives her all. A Cuban actor who’s left positive impressions in such films as “Knives Out” and “No Time to Die,” her impression of Norma Jeane’s voice and appearance is uncanny, particularly in Dominik’s painstaking recreations of iconic moments from Norma Jeane’s career.

De Armas’ commitment to the role overshadows the rest of the cast — though Bobby Cannavale and Adrien Brody stand out as Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller, respectively. Her portrayal is especially impactful when we witness the moment she quietly shifts from the crumbling Norma Jeane into the confident, alluring Marilyn — a character that she can disappear into, if never remove herself from. 

But although de Armas has the acting chops to explore Norma Jeane’s multifaceted headspace — and the real-life woman’s successes and triumphs amidst the gloom — “Blonde” doesn’t give her much room to delve into her complexities. A romance with Eddy G. Robinson Jr. (Evan Williams) and Charlie Chaplin Jr. (Xavier Samuel) marks one of the only times she actually feels companionship in the entire film, if only briefly and later upended — including a sex scene that seemingly warps and stretches the screen to pretentious effect.

Rather, more often than not, de Armas is reduced to hysterical outbursts and a performance defined by repetition, enduring violence against her (continually) naked body and her mind. Viewers aren’t granted any noteworthy insights into the dark side of Hollywood, being force-fed familiar points of misogyny, sexism, and mental illness. Even with fleeting moments here and there of Norma Jeane getting a chance to voice her opinions and demonstrate her intelligence, “Blonde” reduces her to a one-note, broken husk of a character, putting Dominik’s in-your-face filmmaking at the forefront. 

Speaking of, “Blonde” certainly doesn’t lack artistic creativity, for better and worse. Jumping between different aspect ratios and switching between black-and-white and color photography (seemingly with little reason), Chayse Irvin’s immersive cinematography is complemented by editing that’s alternately, woozy, ethereal, brutally uncompromising, and invasive.

Through this, “Blonde” effectively creates feelings of discomfort, irritability, and shocked hypnotism. The score, by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, captures a melancholy that hints at the emotion lurking somewhere at the story’s core, begging to be released.

Still, for all the transfixion gleaned from the film’s flourishes, “Blonde” is chock full of scenes that dehumanize, violate, and demean Norma Jeane, bashing viewers over the head with the awful ways she’s treated, as well as the ever-present public eye, full of men whose mouths gape open as if to swallow her whole. From abortions viewed from the perspective of Norma Jeane’s vagina, to an absolutely vile fellatio scene late in the film that juxtaposes a spaceship crashing into the White House with reaching an orgasm, it all just begs the question… Why was this necessary?

And that’s the final takeaway from “Blonde.” Despite individual elements that shine, the overall piece is more confusing and maddening than satisfying, leaving me frustrated thinking of the powerful film that could have been.

Blonde. Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe. Cr. Netflix © 2022

“Blonde” is a 2022 drama-fantasy written and directed by Andrew Dominik and starring Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale, Xavier Samuel, Garret Dillahunt, Julianne Nicholson, and Lily Fisher. It is rated NC-17 for some sexual content and the runtime is 2 hours, 46 minutes. It streams on Netflix beginning Sept. 28, and is in selected theaters Sept. 23 (but not in St. Louis). Alex’s Grade: C- 

By Lynn Venhaus
Based on the 2000 fictional novel by Joyce Carol Oates, “Blonde” is a deeply flawed semi-biopic that blurs fantasy and reality regarding the life of movie star Marilyn Monroe. The reality is an alarming American tragedy, and the fiction is a relentlessly disturbing film.

The film “Blonde” reimagines the life of the Hollywood legend, from her traumatic childhood as Norma Jeane Baker, through her rise to stardom and romantic entanglement. Writer-director Andrew Dominik blurs the lines of fact and fiction, exploring the difference between her public and private self

With its NC-17 rating and shocking graphic sexual content, “Blonde” is a polarizing, controversial take on one of Hollywood’s most enduring icons. Norma Jeane deserved better in life, and a much better  representation in a film after her death.

Not that Ana de Armas doesn’t impress in a remarkable transformation as the stunningly gorgeous, breathy-voiced actress whose traumatic childhood forever damaged her psyche. She has the look, the voice, and the demeanor down pat in her recreation, but regrettably, spends a huge chunk of the film in tears.

She wears those memorable outfits well, and costume designer Jennifer Johnson captures every look in meticulous detail.

With such copious nudity and its 2-hour, 46-minute runtime, at least a half-hour of bare breasts could have been cut. Not that more incisive editing would have saved the film, but it sure would have helped.

Writer-director Andrew Dominik worked on bringing this adaptation to the screen for over 10 years. The source material is already suspect anyway because it’s filmed as a dreamy fantasy – so unless you know the factual details of Marilyn’s life, you will be adrift. What’s fake and what really happened? You’ll have to find that out on your own.

For instance, her first husband, baseball legend Joe DiMaggio, is not referred to by name in the credits, only “Ex-Athlete.” To be fair, Bobby Cannavale is a fine embodiment of the slugger.

Bobby Cannavale and Ana de Armas

As her second husband Arthur Miller, Adrien Brody fares better and has the best scene when they first talk. It’s well-established that Miller was captivated by her enthusiasm for ‘the work,’ and her knowledge of literature and characters. She had an intuitive sense of the material, but sadly, wasn’t allowed to realize her great potential.

Growing up with a schizophrenic mother (a terrifying performance by Julianne Nicholson), Norma Jeane was sent to an orphanage. She endured so much hardship that we see why she had massive daddy issues and just wanted to be loved. Young actress Lily Fisher is gut-wrenching as the young Norma Jeane.

Starting out as a model, Monroe transitioned to film – her first role was in the Oscar-winning “All About Eve” as the wicked George Sanders’ date. The studio system’s casting couch is nothing new, but the way Marilyn was brutalized by men in power is upsetting. Treated like a boy-toy and nothing more than a sexual plaything is quite unsettling, and when the film dissolves into porn-like scenes with her lascivious pals Charlie Chaplin Jr. (Xavier Samuel) and Edgar G. Robinson Jr. (Garret Dillahunt), it’s squirm-time.

(I’m wondering how long it will take Netflix viewers to turn off the film after those graphic sexual encounters take place). The sleazier things, especially the lewd JFK scene, are painful..

The fantasy aspect is reason for concern, and after revealing she has a studio-ordered abortion, then she loses a baby through miscarriage, later. Did we need a voice and image of the fetuses?

Dominik’s overly melodramatic and turgid script, which he describes as an avalanche of images and events, is muddled and messy, and does not serve the actress well. No one is depicted in a good light. (Although cinematographer Chayse Irvin’s work with stark black and white vs. scenes of technicolor is interesting).

The movie shows only fleeting snippets of joy, and yes, her public and private images are contrasted in a very uncomfortable way. — lecherous and leery distortions.

“Blonde” is a confusing, perturbing, grim film that does the tragic star a disservice and winds up more of a nightmare because of its fever dream elements. I will never watch this again, and I can’t unsee things I wish I could.

“Blonde” is a 2022 drama-fantasy written and directed by Andrew Dominik and starring Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale, Xavier Samuel, Garret Dillahunt, Julianne Nicholson, and Lily Fisher.
It is rated NC-17 for some sexual content and the runtime is 2 hours, 46 minutes.
It streams on Netflix beginning Sept. 28, and is in selected theaters Sept. 23 (but not in St. Louis). Lynn’s Grade: D.

By Lynn Venhaus
When husband-and-wife collaborators Ben Falcone and Melissa McCarthy work together on screen, a low bar has been set, for their previous four movies together had little to redeem them. Yet “Thunder Force,” while just barely a cut above the others, has its moments.

And only a few, for “Thunder Force” is a hodge-podge of tone, temperament and style that squanders opportunities to boost its likability. The strongest aspect is the cast, who looks like they are having fun indulging in all the silliness.

And there is plenty of that, along with slapstick and repetitive gags. Maybe the jokes don’t all land, but let’s keep hammering them again and again just in case people will finally ‘get’ them.      

In a world terrorized by super villains, scientist Emily Stanton (Octavia Spencer) has developed a way to give regular people superpowers. That happens to her estranged best friend Lydia Berman (Melissa McCarthy), who is injected with super strength, when she is poking around. Emily can become invisible. These powers, to be used for good, can protect their city from evil. But can Thunder Force save Chicago from these Miscreants?                            

After the disappointing “Tammy” in 2014 and the unwatchable “Life of the Party” in 2018, (I skipped “The Boss” in 2016),  one wonders why writer-director Falcone still gets to helm projects with his Oscar-nominated wife McCarthy but in November, they presented another lackluster high concept “Superintelligence” on HBOMax and now the forced “Thunder Force” on Netflix.

McCarthy is playing the same character that she has milked for laughs since her breakout role in “Bridesmaids” in 2011 – an uncouth loudmouth slob who beats to her own drummer. The common thread there, along with “The Heat,” “Spy” and “Ghostbusters,” is director Paul Feig, who knows how to reign in her penchant for absurd riffs.

Feig’s direction is disciplined, unlike her husband of 16 years, who lets her go on and on and on – singing random pop songs, doing goofy impressions and just making a good punchline less amusing by not knowing when to stop. 

Why does she stay in her comfort zone when we know she is capable of much more — the Oscar-nominated “Can You Forgive Me?” and an Emmy as host of “Saturday Night Live” in 2017 (and that hilarious Sean Spicer impression)?

The Falcones met doing improvisational sketch comedy at The Groundlings in L.A., and I think their strength is humor in short doses. This movie is like a “SNL” sketch that has gone on far too long.

Apparently, McCarthy and Spencer met during that time, and have been real-life BFFs since then. But you would not know of their connection by the way the relationship is framed in the film.

Emily is a brain who devotes all her time to her work, with little time for frivolity. Lydia is a lonely hard-drinking forklift operator. Neither of them are endearing as good friends, thrown together in school as misfits, but neither is the loyal true-blue friend they should be.

So, they magically team up again after years of estrangement?

The plot holes don’t help. The Miscreants are former borderline sociopaths empowered by interstellar rays in the early ‘80s into super-villains who wreak havoc on the streets of Chicago.

Laser, played by “The Guardians of Galaxy” breakout Pom Klementieff dressed as a dominatrix, hurls blue bolts for destruction.

The thug-boss mayor, played over-the-top by – of course – Bobby Cannavale, referred to as “The King,” and is straight out of Gotham City’s playbook, appearing like a cartoon buffoon in “Batman Returns.”

Falcone also plays one of his henchmen, and after unfortunate skin tasering, has a running gag on how the unsightly scabs appear on his face. Once was enough but the fact it’s repeated is indicative of this hot mess.

And Oscar winner Melissa Leo is totally wasted in a tough-lady operative role.

Now, for the good parts. Jason Bateman, who worked with McCarthy in “Identity Thief” in 2013, is a half-creant, with crab pincer claws as arms. Inexplicably, The Crab and Lydia are drawn to each other (and there is a foreplay scene with drawn butter and Old Bay seasoning). You can tell he’s just slumming, and that’s OK because he knows how to deliver one-liners in a deadpan way. and has a gift for comic timing.

This film, however, belongs to the younger ladies. In flashback, McCarthy’s daughter Vivian Falcone plays her in middle school – and is terrific – and Bria Danielle Singleton is strong as young Emily. They could have had a whole movie developed around them, and that would have been OK, preferable to the middle-age edition.

That said, the jokes about hefty middle-age women in spandex suits and entering and exiting a sports car are funny and relatable.

Taylor Mosby is winning as Emily’s daughter Tracy.

The fact that this movie wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was enjoyable in spurts.

“Thunder Force” is an action comedy directed and written by Ben Falcone. It stars Melissa McCarthy, Octavia Spencer, Bobby Cannavale, Jason Bateman, Taylor Mosby. Melissa Leo and Pom Klementieff. Rated PG-13 for some action/violence, language and mild suggestive material, the run time is: 1 hour, 46 minutes. The film is available on Netflix beginning April 9. Lynn’s Grade: D+