Blonde

Directed by Andrew Dominik

★★½

Blonde. L to R: Xavier Samuel as Cass Chaplin, Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe and Evan Williams as Eddy G. Robinson Jr.. Cr. Matt Kennedy / Netflix © 2022

Devoid of seemingly any pathos for its enigmatic subject, Blonde is a frustrating and grueling three-hour portrait of Norma Jean/Marilyn Monroe composed of harrowing and unflinching vignettes of the time-capsuled star’s life.

It is no secret that Monroe was a polarizing figure in her time and suffered many a tragedy. In the pre-Me Too era, things were incredibly worse for female celebrities, specifically Monroe, and writer/director Andrew Dominik makes this clear in his frigid approach to Monroe’s oft fictionalized biopic. For roughly three hours, Dominick slowly prods through all her life’s miseries (both true and imagined). There is nary a glimpse of hope for Monroe within Blonde’s claustrophobic walls. And whenever we see the slightest glimpse of light, Dominick pulls the wool back over the audience’s gaze.

And gazing is what Dominik seems to be hyper-fixating on with his tyrannical approach to the superstar’s life. While attempting to comment on the public’s (hey, that’s us) treatment and view of Monroe, as well as the advantages men and studio heads took of her, his film starts to become that which it is attempting to critique. But maybe that’s Dominik’s point. Nevertheless, there is a creepy, stagnant air to the film that seems as though its helmer is getting his rocks off on what is basically misery porn.

Ana De Armas is incredible as Monroe. She is able to capture her essence, magnetism, and mystique, without ever delving into parody or imitation. There are moments when an iconic scene is being recreated where De Armas’ familiar look completely transforms into Monroe’s iconic presence, making it difficult to see a performer, but rather the iconic star herself. It is frustrating though, that the movie that De Armas finds herself in is not deserving of her nor up to the task to elevate her. Blonde frequently gives her nothing to do but consistently be embattled with torment and aside from Toby Huss and Adrian Brody’s sympathetic characters, those around her only add to the starlet’s despondency.

There are some incredible transitions and camera work throughout the film, which often seamlessly travels from color to black-and-white. Yet, its constant banality and overuse of changing aspect ratios only add to the defeatist fervor.

Marilyn Monroe lived a tortured and sad life, that we know. But Dominik’s tragedy piece does nothing more to service the star’s unfortunate story, rather choosing to merely confirm its gloom.