Inspiring ‘Lee’ puts a selfless woman at the front
Appearing in Vogue while never being en vogue is the life story of Lee Miller, an American fashion model turned photographer who with zero fanfare captured some of the most iconic images from the waning days of World War II. From posing naked in Hitler’s bathtub to being among the first to uncover the Führer’s unspeakable mass atrocities carried out at Dachau, Miller epitomized the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words. But in an age of rampant sexism, Lee never got the recognition she deserved – until now.
Embodied by Kate Winslet, her most ardent agent, Miller and her incredible oeuvre are forever enshrined in “Lee,” a loving tribute to an unsung war heroine that’s long overdue, albeit slightly undercooked. But few of its deficiencies are attributable to Winslet, who gives it her all in encapsulating an eventful decade marked by Miller’s remarkable journey from nonchalant hedonist to compassionate chronicler of war’s devastating effects on women and children, whom she related to as preyed-upon innocents.
After purchasing a table that once belonged to Miller, Winslet became obsessed with learning all she could about its former owner, with a particular focus on why so little was known about Miller’s works and the towering barriers she had to clear to maneuver her way into what had been a men-only club. Winslet’s dedication to getting it right is evident in every carefully mapped-out shot assembled by first-time director Ellen Kuras, who previously served as the actress’ cinematographer on “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”
It’s a performance of intense passion. But there are moments when that becomes a liability, especially in an early scene featuring one of the Dionysiac – OK, pretentious – parties Miller attended on the Côte d’Azur with surrealist des amis that included Picasso (Enrique Arce) and Miller’s dearest friend, French Vogue fashion director Solange d’Ayen (Marion Cotillard), and her husband, the Duke of Ayen (Patrick Mille). It’s at one of these sybaritic soirees that Miller meets her future husband, artist Roland Penrose (Alexander Skarsgard), who should be commended for his forbearance whenever Lee acts upon one of her many impulses.
During these early days coinciding with the rise of the Third Reich, Winslet verges on parody in her depiction of Miller’s laissez-faire lifestyle. But once married and relocated to London during the Blitz, Miller gets serious, pleading with her former boss, Vogue editor Audrey Withers (Andrea Riseborough), to hire her as a war photographer. This is when the hard-driving Winslet we know and love steps to the fore.
Suddenly, the movie comes alive right along with her, as Miller finagles her way to the front, defying many a military officer in the endeavor. Winslet enables you to experience every insult and derogatory comment hurled Miller’s way. But she also buoys you with Miller’s unwavering defiance and moxie. She refuses to take “no” for an answer. And her resolve is only strengthened when comedian Andy Samberg, of all people, arrives on the scene as Life magazine photographer David E. Scherman.
The two form an instant partnership that reaches its zenith when they arrive at Dachau immediately after the death camp’s liberation. It’s here that Kuras and the movie finally realize their full potential. It’s a harrowing segment in which the horrors they encounter become so visceral you fully comprehend Miller and Scherman’s torment as they attempt to process the unimaginable. You expect brilliance from Winslet, but Samberg too will likely blow you away, most notably when he breaks down and falls into Miller’s embrace, overcome by the enormity of what one man’s inhumanity has wreaked on the world.
It’s something to see and almost compensates for the lethargy that drags down the front half of the film. Blame that on the trio of writers who indulge a succession of cliches, including the overused framing device by which the aged protagonist recounts their story to a young, still wet-behind-the-ears journalist hanging on his subject’s every word. There’s a third-act twist delivered by said journalist (Josh O’Connor), but it doesn’t counteract the staleness of the technique.
It does, however, hauntingly underscore how Miller’s repression of painful childhood trauma also adversely impacted members of her family, who had no clue about what befell her as a little girl. Based on a biography penned by Miller’s son, Antony Penrose, the film is at its best during these most personal and revealing moments. And you can’t help but wish that quality had extended throughout.
The dilemma facing viewers is whether the A-plus third act is worth suffering through an insufferable opening that may try the patience of even the most accepting of movie fans. I wish I could firmly resolve that, but I’m torn, too. Yet the chance to watch Winslet and Samberg gallantly soldier through what is some tough material is undoubtedly an intriguing opportunity. And a venture I won’t soon forget.
Movie review
Lee
Rated: R for language, smoking and disturbing images of war
Cast: Kate Winslet, Andy Samberg, Josh O’Connor, Andrea Riseborough, Marion Cotillard and Alexander Skarsgard
Director: Ellen Kuras
Writers: Liz Hannah, Marion Hume and John Collee
Runtime: 117 minutes
Where: In theaters Sept. 27
Grade: B-
