My knee-jerk reaction is of course they are mentally ill. But when I stop to examine it, it's much fuzzier. What am I basing an assessment of mental illness on? That they live in filth? That they let strangers into their lives to make a film? That they are deluded about their own talents? That they do things that I couldn't imagine a "sane" person doing? A combination of all these?
Big Edie says, "It's very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present. You know what I mean? It's awfully difficult." I think you can say the same thing about the line between eccentricity and mental illness.
(I didn't really get a sense of how many people were doing things for them behind the scenes ... who was paying the bills and getting the groceries, etc. One scene showed Big Edie writing a check — did she take care of the finances?).
Is the film exploitative? I struggled with this question a lot. It's the first thing I asked myself after I saw it — and it crossed my mind when I laughed while watching it. Am I laughing at their expense?
I think the women were clearly susceptible to being taken advantage of, but I don't think the filmmakers took advantage. I don't think they're saying, hey, look at these wackjobs, aren't they a hoot? I think they're saying look at these interesting women and how they live — isn't it fascinating?
Erin's question actually makes me think of Nora Desmond in "Sunset Boulevard." You could see Max's filming of Nora's arrest and letting all the press vultures in the house as exploiting her deluded mental state, or you could see it as an act of devotion to her — giving her that one last closeup before she fades away. Max clearly meant it as an act of affection, not ridicule. And I think that's how the Maysle brothers saw their film about the Edies.
The Maysles brothers clearly had an affection for the Edies. I think they found them fascinating and engaging and funny. And that's not such a bad thing. The Edies, I think, really enjoyed the attention. After the film came out, Little Edie said, "To my mother and me, 'Grey Gardens' is a breakthrough to something beautiful and precious called life."
"I think you can say the same thing about the line between eccentricity and mental illness."
Agreed, kc. In this case, that eccentricity was developed by their self-imposed isolation for more than two decades. It establishes new norms of behavior. The filmmakers entered their society, with their own rules for dressing and cleaning and living and arguing.
I'm torn on the question of exploitation. The Beales were chosen, of course, for their relation to a former first lady and a princess. But the filmmakers did surprisingly little with that potentially juicy material. Other than the start of the film and a passing anecdote or two (Jack Kennedy), it wasn't about the Bouviers at all.
Of course, it was on my mind throughout the film anyway.
From the perspective of ‘folk psychology’ they were crazy. What kind of clinical diagnosis they would get I have no idea. And a psychologist would tell you that you cannot diagnose from a movie anyway. But they are socially isolated and cut off from the present. Besides being deluded about their talents, they are fixated on the same issues from the past that they argue with each other over and over. They wouldn’t be able to function in the wider world without changing considerably. So that’s grounds enough to say they were crazy.
I wonder what Little Edie was like later in her life after she had sold the house and moved away. Did she stay isolated, or was she able to develop some new relationships?
Speaking of Max from “Sunset”, I just watched Jean Renoir’s 1937 movie “La Grande Illusion” where Erich von Stroheim has a major part. He did a fine job in this excellent movie that is seemingly about World War I and prison camps, but is really about compassion and human connection.
Among the extras on the Criterion DVD is a 1976 interview with Little Edie by Kathryn Graham. Graham asks her whether the film was exploitative, and Edie says she is "so glad it was made" and she is "just mad about the Maysles."
Good. I think it would be exploitative only if turned out to be a rather different film than the women were expecting. So it is good that Little Edie was pleased.
11 comments:
My knee-jerk reaction is of course they are mentally ill. But when I stop to examine it, it's much fuzzier. What am I basing an assessment of mental illness on? That they live in filth? That they let strangers into their lives to make a film? That they are deluded about their own talents? That they do things that I couldn't imagine a "sane" person doing? A combination of all these?
Big Edie says, "It's very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present. You know what I mean? It's awfully difficult." I think you can say the same thing about the line between eccentricity and mental illness.
(I didn't really get a sense of how many people were doing things for them behind the scenes ... who was paying the bills and getting the groceries, etc. One scene showed Big Edie writing a check — did she take care of the finances?).
Is the film exploitative? I struggled with this question a lot. It's the first thing I asked myself after I saw it — and it crossed my mind when I laughed while watching it. Am I laughing at their expense?
I think the women were clearly susceptible to being taken advantage of, but I don't think the filmmakers took advantage. I don't think they're saying, hey, look at these wackjobs, aren't they a hoot? I think they're saying look at these interesting women and how they live — isn't it fascinating?
Erin's question actually makes me think of Nora Desmond in "Sunset Boulevard." You could see Max's filming of Nora's arrest and letting all the press vultures in the house as exploiting her deluded mental state, or you could see it as an act of devotion to her — giving her that one last closeup before she fades away. Max clearly meant it as an act of affection, not ridicule. And I think that's how the Maysle brothers saw their film about the Edies.
The Maysles brothers clearly had an affection for the Edies. I think they found them fascinating and engaging and funny. And that's not such a bad thing. The Edies, I think, really enjoyed the attention. After the film came out, Little Edie said, "To my mother and me, 'Grey Gardens' is a breakthrough to something beautiful and precious called life."
"I think you can say the same thing about the line between eccentricity and mental illness."
Agreed, kc. In this case, that eccentricity was developed by their self-imposed isolation for more than two decades. It establishes new norms of behavior. The filmmakers entered their society, with their own rules for dressing and cleaning and living and arguing.
I'm torn on the question of exploitation. The Beales were chosen, of course, for their relation to a former first lady and a princess. But the filmmakers did surprisingly little with that potentially juicy material. Other than the start of the film and a passing anecdote or two (Jack Kennedy), it wasn't about the Bouviers at all.
Of course, it was on my mind throughout the film anyway.
Sorry, it was Little Edie who said "It's very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present." I just noticed that.
From the perspective of ‘folk psychology’ they were crazy. What kind of clinical diagnosis they would get I have no idea. And a psychologist would tell you that you cannot diagnose from a movie anyway. But they are socially isolated and cut off from the present. Besides being deluded about their talents, they are fixated on the same issues from the past that they argue with each other over and over. They wouldn’t be able to function in the wider world without changing considerably. So that’s grounds enough to say they were crazy.
I wonder what Little Edie was like later in her life after she had sold the house and moved away. Did she stay isolated, or was she able to develop some new relationships?
And a completely off topic comment:
Speaking of Max from “Sunset”, I just watched Jean Renoir’s 1937 movie “La Grande Illusion” where Erich von Stroheim has a major part. He did a fine job in this excellent movie that is seemingly about World War I and prison camps, but is really about compassion and human connection.
Among the extras on the Criterion DVD is a 1976 interview with Little Edie by Kathryn Graham. Graham asks her whether the film was exploitative, and Edie says she is "so glad it was made" and she is "just mad about the Maysles."
Good. I think it would be exploitative only if turned out to be a rather different film than the women were expecting. So it is good that Little Edie was pleased.
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