I’m “biast” (con): nothing
I have not read the source material
(what is this about? see my critic’s minifesto)
Movies can take years to make, so it’s impossible to know into what sort of cultural zeitgeist the finished project will ultimately be released. But a special booby prize must go to Submission for getting it so opposite-world, upside-down wrong. I mean, sure, this film would have been offensive when it debuted at the Los Angeles Film Festival last June, but since then we’ve had Harvey Weinstein, #MeToo, “Cat Person,” the bad date Aziz Ansari didn’t realize he was party to, and #TimesUp… and Submission is so howlingly out of step with the much-needed new conversations we’re having about sexual harassment and power dynamics, so outrageously tone deaf about the essential new awareness that has sprung up around the different ways in which men and women see sexual interactions. Its take is so just plain terrible that, you know, it might have been better to simply not release the film at all.
Bad enough that Submission’s protagonist, Ted Swenson (Stanley Tucci [Beauty and the Beast, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 2]; why, Tucci, why?!), is a cliché of the most tedious sort, one so overrepresented onscreen and in pop culture (and literary fiction) that if we never saw another one we’d still be bogged down with too many. Ted is the author of one middling successful novel, and has been struggling for more than a decade to write a second. In the meantime, he has been working as a creative-writing professor at a small fourth-rate Vermont college, where the students, even the ones who want to be writers, barely even read. (Wait. Do writers really get professorships and tenure on the basis of a single novel? Maybe white men do…) Ted drinks too much, is “dying of boredom and angst,” decries his fellow faculty as “spineless idiots,” and is generally an overprivileged, overcoddled toddler… which is exactly what he deems today’s kids are, what with their neuroses and their safe spaces and their anti-sexual-harassment codes, which Ted also scoffs at.
Naturally, Ted has an incredibly supportive and saintly wife, Sherrie (Kyra Sedgwick: The Edge of Seventeen, Man on a Ledge), who tolerates his moping and his drinking. Later, she will cry out that they are such clichés. If only there were some hint of satire in any of this. But there isn’t.
And then! Poor Ted, poor suffering Ted, realizes that one of his students, Angela Argo (Addison Timlin: The Town That Dreaded Sundown, That Awkward Moment), can actually write. (This is debatable.) She has asked him to read her novel-in-progress, and he agrees, because she flatters him, insisting that his novel — his one novel — is her favorite book ever, is a masterpiece, saved her life, etc. The chapters she feeds him one at a time tell the story of a clear stand-in for Angela herself, a teenage girl who has an affair with a much older male high-school teacher. Her prose is very steamy and erotic — writer-director Richard Levine dramatizes it, of course — and it’s so obviously constructed to manipulate Ted that it’s laughable… but he doesn’t seem to see it. He doesn’t seem to realize anything that is happening, right up until the moment when–
Well. I won’t spoil. Suffice to say that Angela is exactly the sort of conniving schemer we took her for from the moment we met her — she’s yet another a cliché of the most tedious sort — and Ted is precisely the naive sap it’s thoroughly impossible to buy him as. Submission, based on the 2000 novel Blue Angel by Francine Prose, would have us believe that it’s unsuspecting men who are victimized by much younger women under their authority, not the other way around, and that sexy young women are ruthless while older, worldly wise men are hapless. Heck, maybe men should follow that hideous “Mike Pence rule” about never being alone with women who aren’t their wives, because a bitch will take a man for whatever she can, however she can… and worse, she will fool everyone else into thinking she’s the victim.
If a men’s-rights activist’s Twitter feed could spring to life, it might look like Submission. Sexual harassment isn’t real: it’s a fantasy invented by feminists… like the appalling caricature of a gender-studies professor played Jessica Hecht [Anesthesia, The Sisterhood of Night], who does her best with a thankless role. (Janeane Garofalo [The American Side, Ratatouille] plays another professor. The waste of her presence feels like a fuck-you to feminism and progressivism, too.) “Sexual harassment” is a weapon wielded by women to hurt men. Pitiable, innocent men who don’t deserve to be treated so shabbily.
#TimesUp on this crap.