36 year old Alaskan born trans girl living in Connecticut. I've become a Gerry defender, so even I don't know what my taste is anymore.
This review might take a minute, Ellie has to think about her entire life before she writes a letterboxd review.
Before this movie came out, I'd have told you it's impossible for a movie to be both a hagiography and a character assassination of the same person, and yet here this movie sits, as bold as brass. It'd be fascinating if it didn't suck so much to watch.
Must a movie have a plot? Is it not enough to watch two women hang around France falling in love?
The most interesting element is that this movie gets like 60% of the way to understanding that, in replicating the practices of abusive men around her Miranda has essentially transformed her assistants into endlessly replaceable copies of the way men like that treat their wives (as Paris Paloma says "All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid, nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant.") but then remembers it's 2006 and kinda leaves that on the table.
