Hollywood takes sex seriously -- far too seriously.
It is an unwritten rule in films that if sex is depicted as being erotic, joyous and life affirming, then it must be pornographic, or at best it isn't to be treated with much respect. But if the sex in question is portrayed ponderously as demeaning, joyless and discomforting, then that means something "serious" and "artistic" and "insightful" must be going on. SECRETARY is a movie that thinks it is being serious and artistic and insightful, but in reality it is only being demeaning and joyless and discomforting. Oh, and add pointless to that list.
As lascivious and lurid as Hollywood is accused of being, nothing scares the film industry more than sex. Nothing will get a film an adult rating faster than even the slightest hint of open sexuality or even simple nudity. Thus, rarely is sexuality the central theme of any movie, and rarer still is sex treated with any degree of honesty. And for every intriguing SEX, LIES AND VIDEO TAPE, there are films like CARNAL KNOWLEDGE, CRASH (Cronenberg's version) and EYES WIDE SHUT, films that are cold, pompous and stupefyingly dull. If tainted by despair, then the benefit of the doubt will be extended, so that even the most god-awful piece of pretentious junk will get respect from the industry and the critics. To it's credit, SECRETARY ups the ante and tries to tackle the thorny subject of sado-masochism, but it can't even get up enough testosterone to make it vulgar and offensive. And as kinky as the film sometimes tries to be, it never really raises above being merely pretentious. Shallow as it is, the critics readily embraced it; anything this lame apparently must have hidden depth.
Maggie Gyllenhaal stars as Lee Holloway, a depressive prone to self-mutilation. Fresh out of an institution, she lands a job as typist/receptionist for E. Edward Grey (James Spader), a lawyer who is every bit as creepy as she is quirky. By turns meek and self-absorbed or arrogant and demanding, Grey figures out Lee's personality disorder and mentors her in proper office decorum and then in improper sexual decorum. The more he takes advantage of her, the more she seems to demand of him and the more she grows as an individual. Or that is what the film would have us believe. As sort of an S&M version of MY FAIR LADY, it soon blurs just who is controlling who and why.
For some reason, Spader has become the poster boy for male sexual dysfunction (SEX, LIES AND VIDEO TAPE, CRASH, "Boston Legal"), to the point that casting him in this film is almost too predictable. Gyllenhaal gives a good performance as a woman of often shifting and unpredictable moods, but her work is obscured by the vaguely humiliating nature of the role; the poor actress garners more pity than her off-balance character. They are both good actors, trapped in a film that demands that they give stilted, unsympathetic performances.
The film is always flirting with being tasteless, but that is about as far as its flirtations go; the S&M exhibited is irritatingly softcore. Not that whips and chains and exotic dungeons are warranted, but the spankings and light bondage it does offer seems more unintentionally funny than shocking. And it is not that the characters have a taste for rough sex that is vexing, but that they barely have a taste for any sex at all, let alone any real passion. They approach their various in-office encounters, not with a sense of lustful enthusiasm or even a gleeful naughtiness, but with a pained, empty and dutiful sorrow, all to let us know that their behavior is the result of some sick compulsion. Heaven forbid that their role-playing might just be a naughty game. The film never devotes itself to going either way, exploring the psychological hang ups behind their compulsions or just accepting their behavior as the meeting of two like minds. And SECRETARY is one of those hypocritical films that draws you in with the promise of an exploration of new horizons, but cops out with a safe and non-threatening puritanism. Sex for the sake of sex is wrong -- unless it leads to marriage. But otherwise, kinky isn't just bad, it also isn't even much fun.
Plus, the film is remarkably conventional in its plotting, making it not very far removed from the business-as-usual sexual politics of classic romantic comedy: innocent female outsmarts domineering male and subdues him into marriage. The film's hidden, anti-feminist notion is that a man's need to dominate is his weakness; a woman's willingness to be submissive gives her power. But as radically subversive as that might seem, take out the sadomasochism and this is nothing but a Doris Day-Rock Hudson romantic comedy -- minus the comedy and the romance. It's 9 1/2 WEEKS meets TWO WEEKS NOTICE; it is as superficial as the former and as safe as the latter. The film recognizes that sex can be basically a struggle for power, but it cowardly avoids either exploring the motivation or the real consequences of the battle of the sexes -- or even considering that such a battle can be, on some level, just plain fun.
It is an unwritten rule in films that if sex is depicted as being erotic, joyous and life affirming, then it must be pornographic, or at best it isn't to be treated with much respect. But if the sex in question is portrayed ponderously as demeaning, joyless and discomforting, then that means something "serious" and "artistic" and "insightful" must be going on. SECRETARY is a movie that thinks it is being serious and artistic and insightful, but in reality it is only being demeaning and joyless and discomforting. Oh, and add pointless to that list.
As lascivious and lurid as Hollywood is accused of being, nothing scares the film industry more than sex. Nothing will get a film an adult rating faster than even the slightest hint of open sexuality or even simple nudity. Thus, rarely is sexuality the central theme of any movie, and rarer still is sex treated with any degree of honesty. And for every intriguing SEX, LIES AND VIDEO TAPE, there are films like CARNAL KNOWLEDGE, CRASH (Cronenberg's version) and EYES WIDE SHUT, films that are cold, pompous and stupefyingly dull. If tainted by despair, then the benefit of the doubt will be extended, so that even the most god-awful piece of pretentious junk will get respect from the industry and the critics. To it's credit, SECRETARY ups the ante and tries to tackle the thorny subject of sado-masochism, but it can't even get up enough testosterone to make it vulgar and offensive. And as kinky as the film sometimes tries to be, it never really raises above being merely pretentious. Shallow as it is, the critics readily embraced it; anything this lame apparently must have hidden depth.
Maggie Gyllenhaal stars as Lee Holloway, a depressive prone to self-mutilation. Fresh out of an institution, she lands a job as typist/receptionist for E. Edward Grey (James Spader), a lawyer who is every bit as creepy as she is quirky. By turns meek and self-absorbed or arrogant and demanding, Grey figures out Lee's personality disorder and mentors her in proper office decorum and then in improper sexual decorum. The more he takes advantage of her, the more she seems to demand of him and the more she grows as an individual. Or that is what the film would have us believe. As sort of an S&M version of MY FAIR LADY, it soon blurs just who is controlling who and why.
For some reason, Spader has become the poster boy for male sexual dysfunction (SEX, LIES AND VIDEO TAPE, CRASH, "Boston Legal"), to the point that casting him in this film is almost too predictable. Gyllenhaal gives a good performance as a woman of often shifting and unpredictable moods, but her work is obscured by the vaguely humiliating nature of the role; the poor actress garners more pity than her off-balance character. They are both good actors, trapped in a film that demands that they give stilted, unsympathetic performances.
The film is always flirting with being tasteless, but that is about as far as its flirtations go; the S&M exhibited is irritatingly softcore. Not that whips and chains and exotic dungeons are warranted, but the spankings and light bondage it does offer seems more unintentionally funny than shocking. And it is not that the characters have a taste for rough sex that is vexing, but that they barely have a taste for any sex at all, let alone any real passion. They approach their various in-office encounters, not with a sense of lustful enthusiasm or even a gleeful naughtiness, but with a pained, empty and dutiful sorrow, all to let us know that their behavior is the result of some sick compulsion. Heaven forbid that their role-playing might just be a naughty game. The film never devotes itself to going either way, exploring the psychological hang ups behind their compulsions or just accepting their behavior as the meeting of two like minds. And SECRETARY is one of those hypocritical films that draws you in with the promise of an exploration of new horizons, but cops out with a safe and non-threatening puritanism. Sex for the sake of sex is wrong -- unless it leads to marriage. But otherwise, kinky isn't just bad, it also isn't even much fun.
Plus, the film is remarkably conventional in its plotting, making it not very far removed from the business-as-usual sexual politics of classic romantic comedy: innocent female outsmarts domineering male and subdues him into marriage. The film's hidden, anti-feminist notion is that a man's need to dominate is his weakness; a woman's willingness to be submissive gives her power. But as radically subversive as that might seem, take out the sadomasochism and this is nothing but a Doris Day-Rock Hudson romantic comedy -- minus the comedy and the romance. It's 9 1/2 WEEKS meets TWO WEEKS NOTICE; it is as superficial as the former and as safe as the latter. The film recognizes that sex can be basically a struggle for power, but it cowardly avoids either exploring the motivation or the real consequences of the battle of the sexes -- or even considering that such a battle can be, on some level, just plain fun.