If anyone ever doubted that Catherine Keener was a fine actress, this ought to lay those doubts to rest. Keener, who was splendid as the impulsive, good-natured, horny secretary in "Being John Malkovitch," shows her range in this story of a mother who tortured one of her young boarders, played by Ellen Page, to death.
Keener gives the character an entirely different propulsion from that of the historical murderer who was, perhaps, driven to insanity by the burden of her name -- Gertrude Nadine Baneszewski. Would you want to have to lug that name around with you? In newsreel footage, Baneszewski's glance darts around nervously at the time of her arrest. She seems a little bewildered by the light of day but tight-lipped, bitter, and defiant, a little like Ailene Wournos. She must have been a screaming tyrant in the home, bursting with rage, the kind of absolute dictator that causes subordinates to speak only in whispers -- a living stereotype, in other words.
But Keener gives her more depth than she deserves. Keener's Baneszewki is thoughtful and contained. She's able to rationalize every perverse act she commits -- and they were worse than those we see in this film. She interrogates Page with the kinds of demands that are impossible to meet. "Prove to me that you didn't tell lies about my daughter being a slut." How can you prove a negative? It's like saying, "Prove to me there is no God." With no proof forthcoming, punishment and its escalation is justified. And of course the punishment is always for the victim's own good. (A feminist writer blamed the torture on our patriarchal society, claiming that Baneszewski was compelled to teach her victim that 'This is what it means to be a woman.'") But Baneszewski doesn't bother me that much. There are plenty of torturers and murderers around, though fewer of them a females. Two other things should have been more closely examined. They're not as dramatic as the story of one case of psychopathology, but they're more interesting in many ways.
One: How was it possible for Baneszewski to be so devoted a Christian and yet a deliberate murderer? The same question is raised by the religious rituals that the Mafia so much enjoy. How does one reconcile homicide with the teachings of Christianity or any other world religion? Two: Forget Baniszewski for the moment. What's the deal with the numerous children in her family and from the surrounding neighborhood, many of them more than old enough to know exactly what was going on? They got dibs on torturing Ellen Page, burning her, kicking her, punching and beating her, and often enjoying it. When I was a kid, if my group found a fledgling in the Spring flopping around, we joyfully stomped it, but we all outgrew that impulse. Is it possible that some people are stuck in Kohlberg's Stage One of moral development? That, since the kids were not punished, were actually applauded, for torturing Page's character, the torture was "good," and that, further, since Page was suffering she must in some way have "deserved it" or "had it coming"? (Otherwise why would she be getting beaten?) I wish it had been handled a little differently.
The actual torture should have been made more explicit. As it is, it smacks a bit of pandering. It's never genteel but it's never as horrible as it was historically either. SOMEBODY -- perhaps the slasher movie audience -- is going to enjoy seeing that pain. Instead of being merely distasteful, it might have had more impact if it had been thoroughly disgusting. (She was made to eat her own excreta.)
And the narrator ends the story with some scintillating observations drawn from Deepak Chopra or someplace -- "She sacrificed Sylvia to save her children. Then she sacrificed her children to save herself." What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?
Still the story is inherently gripping and Keener does well with the central part. It could have been much better but, as it is, it's instructive and maybe that's enough if the goal is to present a dramatic true story.
Keener gives the character an entirely different propulsion from that of the historical murderer who was, perhaps, driven to insanity by the burden of her name -- Gertrude Nadine Baneszewski. Would you want to have to lug that name around with you? In newsreel footage, Baneszewski's glance darts around nervously at the time of her arrest. She seems a little bewildered by the light of day but tight-lipped, bitter, and defiant, a little like Ailene Wournos. She must have been a screaming tyrant in the home, bursting with rage, the kind of absolute dictator that causes subordinates to speak only in whispers -- a living stereotype, in other words.
But Keener gives her more depth than she deserves. Keener's Baneszewki is thoughtful and contained. She's able to rationalize every perverse act she commits -- and they were worse than those we see in this film. She interrogates Page with the kinds of demands that are impossible to meet. "Prove to me that you didn't tell lies about my daughter being a slut." How can you prove a negative? It's like saying, "Prove to me there is no God." With no proof forthcoming, punishment and its escalation is justified. And of course the punishment is always for the victim's own good. (A feminist writer blamed the torture on our patriarchal society, claiming that Baneszewski was compelled to teach her victim that 'This is what it means to be a woman.'") But Baneszewski doesn't bother me that much. There are plenty of torturers and murderers around, though fewer of them a females. Two other things should have been more closely examined. They're not as dramatic as the story of one case of psychopathology, but they're more interesting in many ways.
One: How was it possible for Baneszewski to be so devoted a Christian and yet a deliberate murderer? The same question is raised by the religious rituals that the Mafia so much enjoy. How does one reconcile homicide with the teachings of Christianity or any other world religion? Two: Forget Baniszewski for the moment. What's the deal with the numerous children in her family and from the surrounding neighborhood, many of them more than old enough to know exactly what was going on? They got dibs on torturing Ellen Page, burning her, kicking her, punching and beating her, and often enjoying it. When I was a kid, if my group found a fledgling in the Spring flopping around, we joyfully stomped it, but we all outgrew that impulse. Is it possible that some people are stuck in Kohlberg's Stage One of moral development? That, since the kids were not punished, were actually applauded, for torturing Page's character, the torture was "good," and that, further, since Page was suffering she must in some way have "deserved it" or "had it coming"? (Otherwise why would she be getting beaten?) I wish it had been handled a little differently.
The actual torture should have been made more explicit. As it is, it smacks a bit of pandering. It's never genteel but it's never as horrible as it was historically either. SOMEBODY -- perhaps the slasher movie audience -- is going to enjoy seeing that pain. Instead of being merely distasteful, it might have had more impact if it had been thoroughly disgusting. (She was made to eat her own excreta.)
And the narrator ends the story with some scintillating observations drawn from Deepak Chopra or someplace -- "She sacrificed Sylvia to save her children. Then she sacrificed her children to save herself." What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?
Still the story is inherently gripping and Keener does well with the central part. It could have been much better but, as it is, it's instructive and maybe that's enough if the goal is to present a dramatic true story.