‘Violet’ Review: An Experiment in Cinematic Exploration and Repetition [SXSW 2021]
Perennial actor Justine Bateman dons the director’s cap once again, this time for her first feature film.
Justine Bateman has been learning about the film and television business since 1982, and in that time, she’s been in so many different projects; comedies, dramas, television, film, shorts, features, animated and whatever classification you would give Desperate Housewives. The connection between what an actor does on screen and what they gravitate towards behind the camera is often one of two choices. Actors turned Directors often stay where they’re comfortable. Look at veteran actor Jonathon Frakes who went from ‘Next Generation’ second-in-command to main stay director of every show Star Trek has produced, including two feature films. Or they try something completely different than they are known for. John Kransinski and Jordan Peele both went from the world of comedy to the worlds of horror they intricately created.
So a seasoned performer like Bateman, to whom those rules don’t necessarily apply, and who has done almost everything, seemingly has to invent a new ‘thing’. Her Violet can easily be defined as ‘experimental cinema’ as it isn’t your typical type of film in terms of format or the tools used. It can also, unfortunately, be easily defined as ‘obvious’. The tools Bateman has chosen as both writer and director are not subtle at all, no member of any audience could possibly miss them, or the point of the film.
The title character, Violet, is a young film executive who lacks confidence, and constantly hears a ‘voice’ that gives her terrible advice, create chaos and plants seeds of doubt throughout the film. When one considers the full scope of the character, however, already the irony can become a little too much. Violet is played by Olivia Munn, an actor possessing tremendous beauty and personal success, so she was certainly an interesting choice for Violet. Not to say that beautiful people cannot possess self-doubt, but added is the fact that the character is a film executive, and somehow it’s difficult to sympathize with Violet if you don’t look like Munn or have a dream job.
It was a reminder of when Brad Pitt’s Tyler Durden would preach about how ‘self improvement is masturbation’ and mock those men packed into gyms to look better, while he himself possessed the musculature only comic book Spartans could match. Perhaps the sympathy for Violet was meant to be fostered because the character has made stupid decisions that we’ve all made? Perhaps. Yet some of these decisions that we witness through flashbacks, or in real time are not really relatable mistakes. They are far too over the top that they reach the point of comedy and once again lose any true pathos. The message behind Violet, as mentioned, is as striking as the irony, but it will certainly not be lost on anyone. Violet is the victim of workplace harassment, as her misogynistic boss, (Dennis Boutsikaris) not only abuses her constantly, but lords over her the previous sexual relationship she had with him; a relationship that he believes is the only reason she got where she is. The Voice is also played by the soothing yet unmistakably masculine tones of Justin Theroux. The fact that the guiding lights in her life are these phallocentric forces is a strong message, and a worthy one, but it was also the method in which the message is conveyed which once again causes the film to lose any opportunity to connect with the audience. Sure, we can all be happier, mentally healthier, and no one should have to put up with abuse or toxicity... but Violet is not exactly struggling to begin with.
The Voice is used as many films have done in the past. Many writers have used voice overs to give us a listen inside the head of the main character, that’s nothing new. What was truly new and interesting, is while hearing the voice, there were also handwritten subtitles; no doubt purposefully more feminine in nature. The titles would give the audience a peak into a secondary voice, one that relayed the fears and perhaps what Violet is truly thinking. While that’s occurring, in the distance a siren of sorts rises up like a slow burning migraine. Then finally the scene becomes washed with red and eventually fades out.
Then there’s a scene where Violet will be at home, talking to her friend. The Voice chimes in, the subtitles pop up, the siren rises, the red washes over, and eventually fades out.
Then there’s a scene where Violet will be at work, taking abuse from her coworkers. The The Voice chimes in, the subtitles pop up, the siren rises, the red washes over, and eventually fades out
Bateman. Image courtesy of the LA Times.
This review could literally meet the word-quota for the next calendar year of this particular writer, simply by using the copy and paste short cuts. The major issue wasn’t even so much that the film was ridiculously obvious, or ridiculously repetitive, it was that it was not even effective the first time. When the audience originally experiences the subtitles, it’s interesting, but then another layer is added with the sound, and then yet another with the color grading, and by the conclusion of the first segment the effectiveness is lost. There’s too much happening. It is an assault on the senses, and having to go through a repetitive segment over and over again felt as if the film, its writer and its director only had one idea. That idea is then driven through the audience’s skull, and into the ground.
Bateman prior to this has made short films, and thus far, she did not prove that a feature length film is the right fit for her. If Violet was a short, perhaps it would have been easier to take. Perhaps it wouldn’t have felt so utterly repetitive. Perhaps it wouldn’t have felt so obvious when it concluded. Munn gave a solid performance (despite the disconnect of a stunningly beautiful woman’s plight to go from successful to super successful) so Bateman clearly communicated what she needed from her cast. But Bateman otherwise felt like she did not make any other solid choices as a filmmaker. In fact, it felt as if she didn’t even make choices. There was no self-censoring, no stopping to think how this may read to an audience, and so the film, as experimental as it was, was distracting from its own message and its own purpose.
Perhaps Bateman should have listened to the voice inside her head.