*spoiler alert*
Some people have criticized British director Mike Leigh for having portrayed women as saint-like incarnations of perfect goodness in film after film. I agree that one of the biggest, and ugliest, clichés in movies - and in life - is the depiction of a woman who goes through sacrifice and self-annihilation to save a troubled man. There are enough clean-hearted martyr women to pray beside Raskolnikov's bed as it is, for sure. There are enough "empathic, understanding and good" women figures who heal the wounds of and shed tears for assholes on film and I don't want to see another.
After having seen Leigh's latest film, Happy-go-lucky, I am convinced he has pondered a great deal on these pictures of women as jesus-like healers saving the souls of crazed or inclosured males. When we are first introduced to Poppy (the name, the name!), the protagonist of the film, I sense my fears coming true. Poppy is happy. Poppy wears colorful clothes. Poppy greets the stone-faced clerk and talks to him even though he displays no reaction whatsoever to her presence. It creeps onto me, that Poppy is "naive", that something bad will happen to her. Bad things happen to naive people. We've seen that before, haven't we? Poppy takes driving lessons. Her driving instructor, Scott, is so uptight that he is about to explode at every single moment. For him, Poppy is the typical woman who cannot focus, who is vain (wears boots not suited for driving) and who shouldn't really drive a car in the first place. Poppy is a primary school teacher. She cares about bullying among the kids. When she is enamoured with the social worker who is sent for to look into the case of one of the students, everything looks perfect. And so on.
At this point, I am anxious to see the grit, the problems, the ugliness of things and life come into the picture. Well, this can't be it, can it?
One of the scenes in the film is revealing of what Leigh tries to show us. On the way home, Poppy goes through a park. She sees a tramp, and when she approaches him, he starts talking to her, incoherently. Poppy listens and responds to him. She tries to give him money, but he declines. The whole scene elicits a number of reactions in me, and afterwards, I realize that it is my own reactions that makes the scene what it is. The dark, frightening park: what is her business there? Isn't she afraid? Isn't she disgusted by the tramp? Why does she do it? - These questions says something about me, not Poppy. She perceives no threat and there is no contempt in her responses to the tramp. I am ashamed of how I think of it all; what I expect to happen (she will get raped! she will get killed!). In a masterly way, Mike Leigh turns us back onto ourselves. If I think Poppy is annoying or naive or "too open", I will have to take responsibility for that. The persuasion of the film - I would argue that there is an element of persuasion at play - consists in some familiar clichés that are re-evaluated by the film and by means of this re-evaluation, I turn to my own reactions towards the character of Poppy. The film's intelligent, not shrewd, play with clichés and expectations does not make me alienated from the story or make me feel cheated as the film ends. I do not feel that Leigh has played a trick on me in that he has brought some of my embarrassing, not so flattering reactions and interpretations to ligth.
I think, instead, that I learned something.
Poppy's goodness enrages some of the characters in this film. Poppy's outlook on life makes her sister, dreaming of the perfect suburban, bourgeoisie life, think about what she herself has become. "You think you live the perfect life!" she shouts at Poppy. - "The perfect life", from the sister's point of view, turns into an accusation. And, man, do I recognize this, in myself: Your happiness makes me mad, - it's too good, it can't be real.... There must be something fishy. But it is my rage that is fishy (I think Plato discusses something like this, but I can't recall where, Gorgias? Symposion?).
The end of the film is stunning. Poppy's boyfriend drives her to her horrid driving lesson. Scott is enraged at the situation. He blurts out how he sees her: that everything she's done up til now has been one big Invitation to him: she's been nice, she's been wearing sexy boots. And now it turns out she already has somebody. Scott's perception of Poppy is one hell of a male projection, and as a viewer I realize I am not in a much better position than Scott in this respect. I, too, am guilty of projection. Poppy won't take Scott's shit. She doesn't put up with his uptight manner and after his small 'confession' and moment of gushing aggression she decides to decline further instruction from him. No 'saving' takes place. Scott explodes - Poppy realizes that she should not be in a car with this guy. That's it. Goodness is not sheepishness.
Happy-go-lucky is the most clear-sighted movie I've seen since Little miss sunshine. Symptomatically, both are considered lightweight comedies. Both films beat the shit out of cynical tendencies and "life is brute and lonely"-mentality.
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