W.E., or: The suffocation of materialism and the liberation from it

W.E. (2011)

Directed by Madonna

***SPOILERS***

It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that Madonna’s W.E. was slammed by mainstream critics. It’s easy to accuse Madonna as a “style over substance” filmmaker when she comes from the pretty, glamorous, and shallow world of popular pop music. And since critics have to review two hundred films a year, they’ll always just look for the easy way out, which means taking every aspect of W.E. and accusing it of emptiness. Undoubtedly they believe Madonna’s crisp direction and focus on womanly troubles is a sign of materialistic values free of texture. Strange, because those material values—the ones mainstream critics believe are the downfall of W.E.—are actually hitting home the very message the “Material Girl” herself is building. Except it’s not shallow or barren, but instead wholly reminiscent of one’s desire to escape to a new life and stark image of physical beauty rearing its ugly head.

Many films have dabbled in the side-by-side alternating storylines that never collide, most notably done by Julie and Julia in the last few years. But Madonna and co-screenwriter Alek Keshishian have developed a strange approach that fuels Wally’s (Abbie Cornish) romantically distorted perception of Wallis’ (Andrea Riseborough) history. At no time—other than Wally’s reading of Wallis’ hand-written letters—is it made absolutely clear that Wallis’ story isn’t a fantastical version construed by Wally. While the broad strokes seem to be in place, the sheer contrast between the mood, atmosphere, and visuals between Wally’s and Wallis’ worlds seem to recall Wally’s desire for a deeper connection to Wallis’ story. A direct bit of pathos points the source such an obsession towards her parents’ naming Wally after the famed American divorcée, but really the fixation grew from a dissatisfaction with her own life. Wally was always expected to “marry a prince,” and she seemed to lay the groundwork by coupling herself with a wealthy doctor. But an abusive home life led to such an innate desire to connect herself with Wallis, especially since Wallis’ story was met with a similar piece of heartbreak.

Wally attempts to form such a connection through newspaper clippings, old film reels, and exploring the treasures being auctioned off from King Edward (James D’Arcy) and Wallis’ famous and brief pairing. These objects become both a physical outlet and barrier into Wallis’ past, which creates a thirst for knowledge that’s equally offset by a gradually growing disconnect between her and Wallis’ story. The more she delves into Wallis’ past, the more dissatisfied Wally becomes with her own unfortunate situation. And Wally believes she’s becoming closer and closer to understanding Wallis, when in actuality she’s pushing herself further and further away with each pour over the material objects of Wallis’ past flooding a museum. It culminates in a scene where Wally purchases a pair of Wallis’ gloves for $10,000, which is not only met with a prompt beating from her husband, but also a realization that the objects Wally believes will improve her life actually suffocated Wallis until she escaped the royal life.

A pillbox is auctioned off to a crowd of gleeful and wealthy purchasers. They hoop and holler, thrilled by the prospect of bidding insanely high amounts of money. But as we transition into Wallis’ story, we realize the pillbox contained an impressive collection of Benzedrine, which was dropped into party guests’ drink to lighten the mood after a gloomy Chaplin film. Wallis’ gloves and dresses were sold, but the image we receive of Wallis looking sternly at a newspaper headline reading “Scandalous Affair” through her elegant face net tells a different story. “Shouldn’t we offer more than a dress?” Edward’s temporary fling asks Wallis. “But men are such visual creatures,” Wallis replies, recalling an attitude that didn’t convey the nostalgic attachment to objects held by the auction attendees, but instead a very complacent and engraved mindset that material values were just a way of royal life. And when Wallis’ dress is torn by Edward, her abrupt dinner-halting exclamation results in Edward’s girlfriend disgruntledly leave the dinner table, signifying how the melodramatic hold on material values was directly correlated to one’s partner. Wallis guides servers into properly setting the dinner table, nonchalantly noting that certain pieces of dinner arrangement are more "flattering at eye level." Not only are these “pieces” of Wallis’ life blithely celebrated, but they’re also used to chronicle Wallis’ story through history books—an adept perception on Madonna and Keshishian’s part to utilize the presence of the very materialism critics themselves accuse Madonna of in W.E.

Many of the constricting elements of Wallis’ life celebrated by Wally indirectly end up becoming constricting elements for Wally herself, creating an unrealized connection that Wally was constantly trying to form. Alcohol is used to signify sexual desire and flirtation for Wallis, such as when Edward notes that Wallis makes a “mean drink,” which leads to a flurry of sexual innuendos between she and Edward. Edward takes her husband’s drink and soon takes Wallis for his own—as easily swapped as a rotating dance partners—which allowed Edward yet another chance to flirt with Wallis. This film-noirish method of utilizing alcohol as a character connector is seen through Wally and her husband, in turn creating a man/woman dynamic that displays the difference in time periods, but also the similarities in dissatisfaction with one’s married life. In Wallis’ story, alcohol owns a very proper and materialistic presence, connecting she and Edward without direct realization. But alcohol becomes a cold reality for Wally. She claims that “all men are territorial,” to which her husband replies, “I’m a man who needs a drink.” Wally is abused after responding with, “Have another drink, maybe that’ll help you get it up.” Without consent, Wally and Wallis’ stories are linked through uninspired objects that flood their everyday lives, lending a bittersweet amount of weight to the celebrated view of Wallis’ belongings at the auction, but also noting these objectified women’s place in their men’s lives, as Wallis notes of her relationship with Edward: “It wasn’t domination, but a form of possession.”

As the auction comes to a close, we find a Wally who is resolutely unsatisfied with the ending she received of Wallis and Edward’s story. The auction ends with a clip of Edward’s final speech, and the black and white clip transitions into the colorful reality of Wallis leaving Edward’s estate. It coincides with Wally’s abusive end with her husband, as she leaves on the subway with a bloody nose at the same time as Wallis drives away through a hoard of paparazzi. Wally then speaks of the ending of her relationship with her husband, and it directly corresponds with Wallis’ untold story:

“Pain beneath the ribs; pain beneath the heart. The struggle between it and the brain to gain the upper hand. The brain trying continuously to rationalize, to mend, to save the situation. The pain tearing, clawing—like a bird of prey.”

As soon as Wally stops trying to connect her and Wallis’ story, she’s able to confidently leave her husband and give in to Evgeni’s (Oscar Isaac) desires. Her grip on Wallis’ past was her rationalization for staying with her husband—for staying with her “prince”—but the pain became too much. But in a final act of quiet desperation, Wally happens upon Wallis’ old hand-written letters regarding her and Edward’s strained relationship. Already past her husband, Wally still desires the contents of the letters, hoping to attach some sort of meaning through a set of meaningless objects. For after reading those letters, Wally’s fantastical view of Wallis dwindles into a collection of despondent and trying times between she and Edward, eventually settling into a quiet life free from the press and material objects that will one day be auctioned off. So as Wally gives the gloves she bought back to Wallis in an out-of-body experience, we see Wally finally letting go of an idealized way of life in the face of her beautiful state of being. For her relationship with Evgeni is calm and loving, reminiscent of a casual dance Wallis intimately performs for Edward in the privacy of their own home, free from reporters and constricting materialism. It’s a quiet, unglamorous, and wholly attainable way of life—it just took Wallis (and Wally) some searching to find it.