Todd Haynes‘s critically acclaimed May December is a highly anticipated entry in this season’s Lotterywest lineup; it’s been available to stream on Netflix in North America for nearly a month now, with Australian releases trickling in over the next couple of months. That being said, the film’s reputation precedes it, not simply because of its accolades from festival juries or the power pairing of Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore, but because of the notorious true story the film’s writer, Samy Burch, has loosely based it on – the lives of Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau.

The narrative of May December dovetails somewhere within the true lives of Letourneau and Fualaau at a point when their fundamentally unsound relationship ostensibly began to crumble. We enter the fictional story with Elizabeth (Natalie Portman), an actress who comes to a small Georgia town to do character research for her role in an upcoming film. She’ll be portraying Gracie (Julianne Moore), an infamous woman who was convicted of statutory rape, but who went on marry and raise a family with her victim, Joe (Charles Melton). In the opening scenes, we understand that Gracie maintains a rigid, yet sunnily lit facade under which Joe and her children operate with apparent success. However, under close scrutiny by the outsider under their roof, Gracie and Joe’s familial facade begins to reveal its faults and cracks, and the film begins to weave its magic.

To be clear, May December isn’t a biopic, much like Haynes’s Velvet Goldmine is *definitely not* a biopic about David Bowie. However, it is a mirror image of reality that’s both hilarious and devastating, depending on whose side of the mirror you’re on. So many important scenes happen in front of a mirror, in fact, and they each serve to show us how Moore and Portman’s characters subtly wrest for power over this story. In one particularly telling scene, Gracie takes Elizabeth shopping for her daughter’s graduation dress, and in the frame, Haynes has positioned Portman in between Moore and Moore’s reflection in two mirrors. The women shift their gaze between looking at themselves in the mirror, at each other in the mirror, and at each other face-to-face. Portman uses these moments to mirror Moore’s mannerisms, body language, and vocal inflections. It’s a fascinating process to watch, and by all accounts, a process that Portman underwent in real time in front of the camera, based on what Moore offered in the moment.

Acting methodology aside, Haynes’s ability to mix comedy and pathos is extraordinarily deft here. Just when we think we can’t cringe any harder at these characters’ behaviours and words, the narrative slowly and steadily shifts to Joe’s point of view. Charles Melton’s performance as Joe, a man-child in the most heartbreaking sense, is nothing short of brilliant. As he begins to reflect on his life, his character undergoes a set of small epiphanies that culminate in him questioning his entire reality. Melton puts his whole being into this performance; his line delivery and physicality are a true reflection of a person coming to grips with difficult thoughts and suppressed feelings, and trying to communicate these to others in a way he’s never been able to.

Much of the buzz surrounding this film has to do with its comic tone and how audiences have reacted to that comedy, given the serious moral crisis at the centre of the narrative. There are scenes where you cannot help but have a whole-body response – cringe, look away, laugh, cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, look around you to check everyone else’s reaction – it’s that kind of storytelling. Of course, as a reflection of the human condition, it couldn’t be more accurate. So much of what we witness and go through in life confounds our emotions and our senses. To see an example of just how confusing life can get distilled on screen, portrayed by actors who dive deep into the mess, and reflected back to us, is surprisingly exhilarating here.

There’s a multiplicity of viewpoints to focus on with May December, more than can be summarised in one person’s humble reflection. Tabloid culture is a fixture in our media-drenched lives – but who controls the narrative? How do they frame it? How do we know where to look, or when to look away? May December offers no answers to these questions, but certainly finds raising them a titillating affair.

CICELY BINFORD

May December runs at Somerville Auditorium until Dec 31. For tickets, visit the Perth Festival website here.