Beatriz at Dinner

I'm a great fan of Miguel Arteta and Mike White's work. They travel a road that will take us to unusual places. I don't know if unusual is the right word because all of a sudden everything seems familiar, perhaps is the way Arteta and White got us there that is unusual. Opposite worlds sitting at the same table. Selma Hayek is wonderful and every though that crosses her heart and mind is perfectly visible to us. John Lithgow finds a new and disturbing face to his gallery of startling characters and Connie Britton is sublime as the hostess walking a thin line between empathy and something else. Wow! It really grabbed me and shook me. So, a highly recommended movie trying to survive in a sea of Avengers and remakes. Bravo!

When her car breaks down, a faith healer finds herself an unexpected guest at her wealthy client's business dinner, but a dark cloud looms ...

A small movie with a big theme. The lead actress is excellent and performs the after-dinner song beautifully. The pace is a little patchy, but the sets and camera work are lush, the music perfectly judged.

What holds this back is the failure to put any substance into the other guests. It's true that wealthy people and their hangers-on are often deadly dull in their pursuit of power and authority, yet there's always some flash of insight to them - a fundamental truth in how they outgrasp the rest, even if they're not fully aware of the implications. That flash is lacking, and so we get a selection of yes-men and -women with off-colour jokes and petty gripes, lorded over by a psychopath with a banal philosophy on the finiteness of existence. Perhaps the screenplay should have cornered the hostess, forcing her out of her good-manners and into a choice over the protagonist's fate.

Without that complexity, the theme isn't fleshed out, and relies on sympathy with the protagonist and nice touches, leaving a vague sense of great injustice.

One flaw in the screenplay is the leaving of the keys in the expensive car, which isn't revisited and just serves to show the sense of security of the guests. If you bring a loaded gun into a scene, you better use it.

Overall: Nice, but too simple.

Beatriz at Dinner sells itself as the "first important film of the Trump Era," a galvanizing must-see sparring between two embodiment's of the modern American political landscape. In the blue corner the genteel, multi-cultural, bilingual immigrant Beatriz (Hayek) and the red, the boorish super-rich real-estate mogul Doug Strutt (Lithgow). Who will come out on top? Surely not the audience.

The optimal title for this movie should have been Beatriz and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. She begins her morning feeding her dogs and calming her bleating pet lamb before driving down to work at a ramshackle clinic in downtown L.A.. She claims to be a healer - massage, reiki, rolfing - the kind of stuff that would sound like hokum if Beatriz wasn't so emphatically a believer. Her last task of the day involves a long drive to Malibu to meet with a wealthy client. Her car dies on the driveway, thus her hosts reluctantly invite her to a dinner they are throwing to celebrate a new business venture.

The movie's rising action unfolds largely as you would expect. The slight misreading of social cues and awkward culture clashes turn into a snowballing array of devilishly clever faux pas. The dinner itself, while never quite as caustic as it should be, nevertheless showcases the characters as a menagerie of conflicting personalities all containing themselves to conform to social graces.

Then much like Beatriz after one too many glasses of white wine, the movie just seems to forget itself. It sidesteps the character dynamics it so lovingly created and all but deflates any chance of investment. Beatriz and Doug by this point are no longer human but pallid adversarial mouthpieces that don't even talk at one another but through one another. And they do so in the most sanctimonious of ways, diluting what and how they think in the form of talking-points that'd be better served on someone's back bumper. "All tears flow from the same source;" "what the world needs is jobs;" "the world is dying;" "there's way more satisfaction in building things." These are the kinds of grandiose statements you can expect from this movie, dispensed like oh so many socio-political McNuggets.

By the end of the evening, it becomes clear that director Miguel Arteta and screenwriter Mike White have a thematic endgame in mind. What results is a conclusion that no doubt feels forced and too little too late, though given the film's lack of plot, it should get brownie points for actually getting us there. But once we do get there, the shallow vanity, vitriolic banter and the ever present power dynamics all seem to be beside the point. Much like Blue State (2007), Fast Food Nation (2006) and other such movies, Beatriz at Dinner isn't really a movie so much as it is an overt statement that forgot the cameras were rolling.

Have we seriously gotten to the point where we have forgotten how to do satire? Given the high-concept, Beatriz at Dinner could have been a less sophomoric version of The Last Supper (1995) with flutters of Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) painted in for good measure. Instead we're given a film that's just not enough of anything. It's not aggressive enough, its not satirical enough, it's not nuanced enough - heck it's not even sanctimonious enough! It's sits there in a drunken fugue, angrily seething before ambling away in a worrisome state. If I were you, I wouldn't encourage movies like this by following it.

Just having funny and tragic elements in a movie doesn't make it dark comedy; that takes a careful and very talented touch. Think Death to Smoochy, Harold and Maude, or Mel Brooks' To Be or Not To Be. But Beatriz at Dinner is just an admixture of the extremes that beats you upside the head. You can't be sure what you're getting hit with, and the elements don't make a greater whole. The premise is a class contrast. Hayek's healer/masseuse is befriended and employed by a couple whose child she helped through the post-chemo misery of Hodgkin's cancer treatment. Her car breaks down at their wealthy-enclave home, and they invite her to stay for an important dinner with their super-wealthy patron. Hilarity and tragedy ensue. Weird moment that may demonstrate my point: Beatriz is portrayed both as a deep, sensitive and capable healer, and as an airhead. Someone at the dinner table describes a painful kidney stone incident, and, trying to contribute from her field of expertise, she chimes in with a holistic-sounding remedy, a tea made from beets, rhubarb, and dandelion flower. Those are on the rogue's list for kidney stone sufferers: they're among the six things that generate kidney stones at a rate 10 times more intense than the second tier of danger. So it could be an obscure inside joke, horrible research, or a loop they intended to close later but left on the cutting room floor.

Beatriz made everyone at dinner so uncomfortable and squirmy, and they deserved every second of it.

People who take from and abuse the world being called on it is one of my favorite movie genres. Making the excuse that we're all here for a short time, so why not just enjoy ourselves is the most selfish thing ever said. People with the resources should be helping others in some way, not just helping themselves.

Salma is fantastic as Beatriz. Lithgow is too, as the smarmy billionaire. This movie will give you a lot to think about. It may not be for everyone, and the outcome is not completely satisfying. I thought I was getting a comedy, seeing as it was written by Mike White, who gave us School of Rock.