The name Tammy Faye, for those of a certain age, cannot be uttered without an image of cosmetically enhanced eyes coming to mind. Well maybe that’s presumptuous; but for me, this is the case. But when I look at her name as a film title, I think more subjectively. For example, I wonder, will this be a film as told through Tammy’s eyes? Will we be seeing what she sees and feeling what she feels rather than looking at her from the outside all the time? Or will this be a film that gives a behind the scenes sort of view of her and Jim’s life, somehow making me forget about what I heard or saw in the news, but just a story about a larger than life couple?
The film has a special cast. Even looking no further than the leading couple of Jessica Chastain and Andrew Garfield, it is a film that has boundless opportunity. This is a great and dynamic pairing (honestly either of them with anyone else would qualify as such). They are actors that can be played off one another–laddering up tension like the old tabletop game Shoot the Moon. In a story that is ultimately about “the woman behind the man she is holding in front of her,” the gravitas of Jessica Chastain played against the wiley unpredictability of Andrew Garfield is a perfect match for the material.
However…(darn, the dreaded “however”), The Eyes of Tammy Faye, ascribes to neither the subjective nor the dramatic. It also seems to tack awfully closely to events from the news and the documentary that preceded it. I’m tempted to say, the film is not about a larger than life couple, but a story that feels remarkably small.
Where to begin?
Honestly my first reaction was, “F*cK, what a mess.” I guess I could have left it alone, but it is interesting to see where a film comes up a little short and where it succeeds. The reason my first reaction was such, was because this film felt like it was directorless. There was not enough of a discernible narrative voice that I, as an audience member, could hang my hat on. I never felt comfortable. I never felt like I was processing information in the way that the film wanted me to or at the pace that was asked of me. I was on the down beat while the film was on the up.
As usual, as in my First Frame™ theory of filmmaking, the film’s opening sequence–opening shot really–is so important to establishing trust with the audience. In The Eyes of Tammy Faye, I was lost and distrustful from the outset.
First Frame
The film opens on an ECU of Jessica Chastain as Tammy Faye in all her made-up glory. Close on the make-up. Close on the eyes. In fact, the off screen producer or photographer is engaging the actor about her make-up. We learn that her lips and eyes are permanent. (Permanent make-up I presume). I was hanging on the words, and then had to take an extra study of the lips. Yeah I guess they looked permanent. Does that mean a tattoo? I wondered. Huh. Something about the shot, the subject, the dialogue, allowed my mind to wander. The framing was a little uncomfortable. It was too tight to feel intimate and not wide enough to feel observational. It was a little unsettling. I felt like I was getting to know this person, and this actress, but it was so odd and at the same time pointless, that I just didn’t feel like I learned a damn thing from that opening shot.
As I was on the cusp of unpacking the tattooed lips idea, something interesting was starting to happen with the actor–screen time was making the audience and the actor feel a bit uncomfortable and put-upon. We were holding on Tammy as she was forced to be alone with herself for a little too long and she was clearly uncomfortable. I got the feeling she was like a wind-up toy running low on batteries, a crash was imminent. The length of the shot and pace of the action was the right choice to bring the audience into sync with the main character–a subjective point of view. The film was feeling alive. But, this spell gets broken just as it gets started. Too soon, we get a graphic title over the actor’s right shoulder; a date, and a place, Palm Springs. Then the image shifts to a little girl (facing the opposite screen direction in an over the shoulder shot looking in the mirror). Then the next title appears, a date, and a place, International Falls, MN over the girl’s right shoulder. The spell was definitely broken.
I was being asked to read something, that I’m not sure was even all that important, and I was further seduced away from the images of old and young Tammy by the cascading appearance and disappearance of dates first and places second. The uncomfortable and mismatched framings of young and old Tammy also had consequences. The eye and the brain didn’t immediately feel the emotional impact of “oh, yeah, those eyes, that’s a young Tammy Faye.” It’s the kind of thing that we get, but we don’t really get it. It’s on an informational level, not an emotional one. Its the difference between translating what’s in the script to the screen versus bringing it to life. At this early point in the film I wasn’t so much frustrated as I was just empty and lost.
POV
Continuing with the opening sequence, we leave these close-ups that are supposed to match but don’t, and jump to a wide shot of an old country building with two old trucks perfectly parked and a perfect tree off to one side. I don’t know where I am or why, but there is a nice perfect sign on the building that says it’s an Assembly of God. A little person, or girl, enters frame left in the background, disappearing behind the tree and running towards the buidling. This may be the same girl who was in the mirror; the young Tammy Faye. Then the camera jumps inside, so we can in fact confirm that this is the little girl, though she looks different due to the fact that we only saw her one time before in completely different light and circumstances. Then we get her POV from outside looking in of a preacher. Young Tammy Faye leaves the window.
We revert to the POV shot and the camera makes a tracking move that goes from a woman taking the gospel, to the preacher. Then we see young Tammy arrive at a new window and we get a new angle on the same action. While we aren’t clear on the motivation for switching windows, it’s at this new window that the young girl gets noticed. First by another little girl who’s inside the church, then by a man, who in turn alerts the piano player. Young Tammy Faye runs off.
In short we get some POV shots, but we don’t get any POV. The scene does not really belong to anyone. Or if it does, it is unclear. What did we learn and what are we supposed to feel? I would venture to say that I learned absolutely nothing about the main characters wants or desires or talents or fears or…. Was this girl was being punished and was not allowed to come inside? Is she enamored with preaching? or Church? The camera, moving around the church without much rhyme or reason, or aim, or motivation also, didn’t ever feel like it was in the right spot.
It’s the first scene of the film, and it quite possibly didn’t need to be there.
The News is In
As random and unmotivated as the camera felt in that opening scene, many of the scenes themselves in this film felt interchangeable. If I step back, most of the scenes feel like individual entities that don’t viscerally or structurally need to connect to the scenes that precede or follow. I mean, it’s fine the scenes were in this order, but it didn’t feel like there was a dramatic heirarchy. It is in this way that the film feels hamstrung by events that occurred in real life–mistaking a series of events for a story, and at the same time being obligated to scenes that felt written like basic standard Hollywood scenes.
One example was when Tammy and Jim and baby go to Pat Robertson’s for the first time. I believe this scene is suppose to be about Tammy finding her voice within the family and her new life. But if we look at how the scene is actually done and the scene that follows, it’s more obscure.
First we see Tammy and Jim walk in an say “wow.” Tammy loves the glitz and glam and minks. Jim however sees that his success has paid for this actually. They are greeted by Pat and his wife. The editing and camera placement on this segment also feels aimless–it doesn’t feel like we are cutting to something we are perpetually cutting away from something. Because I’m forced to process shots that don’t really matter and listen to dialogue that isn’t given it’s due, we are left with a toss-up: is Pat really trying to muscle Jim out or is Jim just paranoid and overly sensitive? Further, Tammy’s viewpoint gets lost. But, mind you, even these low or high stakes don’t seem to matter. The film doesn’t really suggest to me that any of this matters. This is not from Tammy’s point of view, this scene feels like it’s from the point of view of the mink shawl, perhaps.
It’s Me Not You
Let’s just take a pause for a second and assume that everything I’m complaining about is in fact the point of the scene. It is a mess and we are supposed to feel left out and confused, because that’s what our main character is thinking and feeling. This is all just a set-up for later in the scene when she exerts herself. Perhaps. But even if I play this out and give the benefit of the doubt, it doesn’t add up as satisfying. No, there’s something much more mediocre going on here.
Okay, It’s you
Jerry Falwell is introduced next and there are more graphic titles that are on the screen at an odd time and in an odd place for not enough duration. Even random slow motion doesn’t save me from making sense of things. Vincent D’Onofrio is great as Falwell or as anyone else really. He’s all mafia boss, well maybe 10% hitman. Tammy and Jim are in awe of him. Here again we take this at face value. It’s the graphic and our knowledge of the news in the past that we must draw upon to make sense of this interaction, not actually the drama on the screen. Again, the film relies to much on this.
Next we move to a full high angle shot and jump ahead in time. From this high angle, one we’ve never been at before, it appears that people are eating. When we jump back to the initial camera position where Tammy and baby are outside the group looking on, she is standing in front of a table of hotdogs and sandwiches, which felt overly prominent. I started to become curious about the food choices at this party. This seemed like the most important and valuable thing to me at this point in the scene, and I don’t believe that this is where the director wanted my attention.
Then the real meat (I mean, hot dogs and luncheon meat) of the scene happens. It’s still not readily clear at the outset, but the seating arrangements are divided by gender and therefore power. The next actions seem to be about Tammy’s dynamic with her husband, Jim. Tammy wedges herself at a table next to her husband. Again, I believe this is supposed to loosely be about the fact that men and women are segregated and Tammy wants a seat at the men’s table, where the action is. But due to the direction, camera placement, and action of the scene, this doesn’t really play. It just seems like she wants Jim to do his fair share as a husband and father. We get a mild confrontation between Tammy and Jerry (I mean, Rev. Falwell), which Jim is very uncomfortable about. Tammy loves everyone, Rev Falwell loves white conservatives, and Jim loves himself. This scene I believe is about Tammy finding her voice, but it feels mostly it’s about her wedging herself into a group and not feeling left out. It’s sort of a mess, because the point is never really clear; Tammy’s POV isn’t really clear.
The Explanation
A lot of times when the script is of the Hollywood variety and the material starts to get away from the director, we revert to quite literal translations of script to screen. In this instance, when the preceding scene is over, we end up in a luxurious bathroom that I come to learn is actually still at Pat Robertson’s house, in part because I notice the characters are in the same clothes and there is a similar backdrop visible out the window. Here, Tammy and Jim explain to each other what the previous scene was about and Jim explains what he has learned from Tammy finding her voice. Thanks to his wife, Jim learns that he has forgotten how powerful and great he is. The eyes of Tammy Faye, might have told us that this scene was about overcoming her fears and learning that the more she exerts her voice the more her husband tries to squelch it. But it wasn’t about this. These feelings weren’t brought out. It was more of a by-the-book Hollywood scene of a news event, and much less about the subjective view of the world of Tammy Faye. But moreover, in this paired-down scene where the two leads confront each other, we could have had something that was larger than life, something that let these two actors shine. Something dramatic. Instead we got fluff. The actors recited their lines the way they felt was best, without much direction or staging or anything much at stake. Darn.
There are many examples in this scene of the director not directing the viewer’s attention. From directing the actor, to camera placement, to editing, the mind and eye of the viewer is free to wander. Sure we get it–this general entertainment value of good actors in fun period mise en scene–but it doesn’t really mean anything, and we don’t get it.
Missed Opportunity
What these actors needed the most was strong directing. This story didn’t have to look any further than the dynamic between the two leads. But in order to get the most out of these two, there as to be boundaries and pathways to success. Performances weren’t really modulated, and the nuances and details weren’t nurtured. Andrew Garfield’s swings for the fences were probably what he felt he had to do in a environment with so few rules and so little opinion. It felt like he was a kid whose parents were physically present but emotionally absent (again, all of this could have actually worked well for the character, but it needed some guidance). Jessica Chastain, had to resort to larger gestures too because, she was playing off of Garfield. I think there was opportunity for smaller moments here, but they didn’t exist.
An Alternate Approach
So now that I’ve bashed the shit out of this thing (I don’t mean to, I root for it, but there are holes, simple as that), could it be that I’ve missed the point? What if, Tammy was never truly in touch with herself, so therefore, the world around her feels flipant and surreal and “posing” all the time? It’s possible, but even this through-line doesn’t have the legs to encompass the whole film. Tammy experiences moments of self-assuredness. Well, what if her blind spot was the great reality that her mother or father didn’t love her. This seemed sort of true. Would it make her not want to be present? This doesn’t really feel like the case either. There are too many moments that wouldn’t fit in any of these world views, though. So I am left with no way to explain the film.
Summary
Jessica Chastain and Andrew Garlfield could have carried this film into transcendent territory. But the film remained firmly grounded, entrenched even, in what really happened, both in the news and in the script.