Yes, I’ve seen it. And, no, I probably don’t need tell you what I’m talking about.
By any critical standards I’m familiar with, I’ll tell you that Melania isn’t much of a documentary; it's more like a plush Life Styles of the Rich and Famous episode that bleeds into a chorus of booming triumphalism centering on Trump’s inauguration. The movie covers 20 days preceding Trump's second ascendance to the Oval Office.
Because Melania produced the film, it’s fair to assume that it tells a story that she wanted to tell. It's no off-the-rack effort but one that gives her a well-appointed showcase. This is the version of Melania she wants viewers to see. And, yes, it’s a pretty picture, life under glass.
To begin with, the movie introduces the Slovenian-born former model as a detail-oriented arbiter of taste when it comes to fashion, a collar that’s too low or a dress that’s not tight enough in the right places. She doesn't put on clothes; she's dressed by others.
The early parts of the film focus on matters such as Melania’s plans for the pre-inaugural dinner and for moving back into the White House. She’s shown talking to designers, event planners, and others who play a role in realizing a vision she sees as her own. It’s as if she’s creating a fantasy of elegant abundance.
Her vision seems grounded in style, not conviction, or maybe it's a case of style becoming conviction.
Given the film’s plush trappings — none of it to my taste — it feels fair to say that the tone can be nearly imperial, or someone's idea of what that might be. Caviar served in a gold-colored egg at a dinner stands as one emblem of frivolous indulgence.
Given the ornate quality of Trump’s apartment in Manhattan’s Trump Tower, where some of the movie takes place, it’s difficult not to think that Melania is aiming for a 21st century Versailles vibe.
Wherever she finds herself, Melania demonstrates a thorough lack of informality. Her towering heels and high-beam smile are treated as statements. Should she venture outside, I wondered whether the wind would be allowed to touch her hair.
The only person who seems to have escaped a glamor makeover is Aviva Siegel, a former Israeli hostage, who meets with Melania in hopes that the incoming Trump administration will help free her husband, still a captive at the time.
At 55, Melania’s face, often seen in close-ups, reveals little. We never see the kind of casual grimace or winking expression that might have made her more relatable, the sort of things you’d find in a film less obviously dedicated to image buffing.
Or maybe what we see is the real Melania, which might be even more disconcerting.
The movie reminded me of a professor of mine who once said that the subscribers to high-end yachting magazines were not the people who could afford to buy yachts. They were folks who wanted to dream, to peep behind the curtain that separates the coolers-on-the-beach crowd from the those with real money.
Causes? There are a few. Melania says that she’s dedicated to helping children, and we see her Zoom calling Brigitte Macron, wife of the French president, to ask for support. She meets in person with Queen Rania Al Abdullah of Jordan to discuss issues. Her concerns are broadly expressed, online bullying of kids, for example.
What we don’t see is Melania rubbing elbows with kids who need help or visiting facilities where such help is offered.
Melania attends Jimmy Carter’s funeral with the incoming president but spends most of the time delivering a voice-over narration about the pain of losing her mother. Carter’s funeral occurred on the one-year anniversary of Melania’s mother’s death, so she’s understandably motivated to remember her mom. But didn't Carter or the grief his family might be experiencing deserve a passing nod?
Trump? Remember him?
He’s a supporting player until the end when the film bathes him triumphal light. To me, Trump, who habitually pumps a clenched fist as a sign of victory, looks out of place in Melania's vision. He jokes about leaving a big tip for workers at Blair House, where he and Melania spend the night before the inauguration. He breaks out his smile when he's posing for group photos, as if responding to a cue.
The use of pop music by director Brett Ratner (songs ranging from the obvious YMCA, to James Brown’s It’s a Man’s World, to Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean, to Aretha Franklin’s version of Amazing Grace) struck me as self-conscious needle drops designed to goose an often dull film to life.
Lip service is paid to American ideals such as individual rights, but the film doesn’t feel small "d'' democratic. It creates an impenetrable world.
Increasingly arduous at one hour and 43 minutes, Melania felt to me as if it were unfolding in an alternate reality, one in which Melania is always ready for her close-ups, where people travel only in motorcades or private jets, where St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York closes so Melania can light a candle for her mother, and where life takes on the polished sheen of a coffee-table book. Whatever you do, don't spill coffee on the pages that have been strategically left open to create whatever impression Ratner wants to convey.
All presidents and First Ladies do some role-playing when it comes to presenting themselves as ordinary people, plain folks who'd be happy to put their feet up in your living room. That may be another kind of sham, but I prefer it to this helping of helping of gold-plated pomp.
Enough. The one thing the film inspired me to do was to move on having already spent enough time considering Melania and her vision.*
*I struggled with myself about whether even to see the film, which wasn't screened in advance for critics. My reluctance derived from some of the same reasons I avoid most faith-based movies. They're not made for me, and they're likely to appeal to people who don't distinguish between criticism of the movie and criticism of their faith. I plunged ahead because Melania wound up being widely reviewed and because it became a news story. And, yes, I'm aware that it occasioned a snark festival of major proportions. A movie made by a public figure about herself isn't like other films, but I saw the film and reacted to it as best I could. That's all I knew how to do.
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