Movie review: ‘Poor Things’ is emblematic of larger issues in current cinema

Emma Stone (left) and Mark Ruffalo in “Poor Things.” (Atsushi Nishijima/Searchlight Pictures/TNS)

2023 has been a year that will be remembered when it comes to the film world, from the SAG-AFTRA and WGA strikes to the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s deterioration. But it will most likely be known for the cultural phenomenon that was “Barbenheimer,” or the dual release of Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie” and Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer” in July. 

While both films received wide acclaim, they also had their small share of critics, with a common judgment of “Barbie” being that its messages of female empowerment were shallow, and for “Oppenheimer,” Nolan’s continued inability to write female characters with depth. 

It’s bizarre, although fitting, that “Poor Things” — one of 2023’s final big releases and contenders for Best Picture at the next Oscars — makes the same mistakes that held back this year’s other award competitors from being all-time classics.

“Poor Things” is directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, an eccentric Greek filmmaker who has notably dabbled in surrealism in films such as “The Lobster” (2015) and “The Killing of a Sacred Deer” (2017). 

When evaluating Lanthimos’ quirky characters and strictly symmetrical scene compositions, his best comparison may be to Wes Anderson on psychedelics. He often explores the clashing juxtaposition between the decorum of a sophisticated society and animalistic human nature, and “Poor Things” is no exception. 

Set in a steampunk Victorian England, “Poor Things” follows Bella Baxter (Emma Stone), a Frankenstein’s monster-esque reanimated corpse of a pregnant woman who committed suicide, only with the unborn child’s brain put into the full-grown adult body. 

Her creator Godwin Baxter — who is not so on the nose referred to simply as God — is played by a disfigured Willem Dafoe and seeks to shelter Bella as her infant brain syncs with her adult body, but can only contain her adventurous instincts for so long as she seeks to traverse the world around her. 

Bella gets a bittersweet opportunity to do so when a himbo-like Mark Ruffalo’s character, Duncan Wedderburn, takes advantage of her sexual naïveté. The pair subsequently embark on a world tour, allowing Bella to explore her sexuality away from “God’s” prying eyes and ears. 

If this general concept sounds familiar, maybe it’s because Barbie presented watchers with a similar arc earlier this year. Much like Margot Robbie’s Barbie, Bella has to escape a sheltered, patriarchal setting and discover more about herself by dipping her toes into the real world’s harsh reality. 

In many ways, “Poor Things” can be read as an “adult” version of Barbie, one that would ideally explore issues of contemporary feminism better when it doesn’t have to hide behind the funding of a toy corporation and a responsibility to cater to a broad age range. 

The issue is that “Poor Things” ends up reading more like a work of feminist literature written by a man whose only experience speaking to women is mansplaining philosophy to them on a first date that will not lead to a second.

“Poor Things” is Lacanian in nature, meaning it draws heavily upon its characters’ emotional development based on their broadening language and desire to please others. Bella’s intellectual growth is irrevocably tied to her escalating sexual experiences, from her repeated acts with her lover to her working as a prostitute in order to gain her own money after splitting off from him.

As a result, “Poor Things” feels like a commercial empowerment fantasy forced down many modern-day women’s throats: They can “have it all,” from a loving husband — who Bella does find at the end of the film in the form of Godwin’s lab assistant, who helped raise her — to an exciting and empowering sex life, to a fulfilling career. 

While it does seem like “Poor Things” attempts to deconstruct and poke fun at this notion — Bella’s empirical “experiments” juxtapose the all-knowing auras of her scientific male caretakers, whose knowledge is mostly derived from books — it doesn’t do enough to subvert the reality that what viewers are actually seeing on screen is fundamentally problematic.

Aside from Bella’s burgeoning independence and intellect being correlated to her exponentially large number of sexual partners, her development is shaped by men at every turn. She’s introduced to philosophy by a man she meets on a boat, with the pinnacle of her career being marked by her becoming a surgeon like her father and performing the same morally flawed operations as him, in a way proving that she has learned nothing.

“Poor Things” is based on a 1992 novel by author Alasdair Gray, in which the ironic situations Bella finds herself in are more drawn out due to the book’s multiple viewpoints, including one theory that Bella’s surgery and childlike demeanor were nothing more than a twisted fantasy imagined by her husband. The film adaptation, however, ultimately fails to peel back its source material’s intricate narratives and paradigms. 

Maybe this mere suggestion of complexity is one of the reasons for the movie’s outstanding reviews, seeing as it is shaping up to be a top contender for Best Picture, along with “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer.” 

On a surface level, “Poor Things” is enjoyable enough as a decently funny movie that is more unconventional than mainstream blockbusters, fueled by an award-worthy performance from Stone and some absolutely gorgeous set designs that also draw similarity to those seen in Gerwig’s “Barbie.” 

If audience members are perturbed by the disturbing connection between Bella’s sexuality and intelligence, thinking about it one layer deeper can provide some solace as the link attempts to play on the small-minded worldview of sexist men. But if they go one layer deeper, they may begin to realize that just because a movie pokes fun at sexism does not make it inherently feminist. 

And maybe “Poor Things” doesn’t have to be a feminist masterpiece. Maybe it’s more enjoyable for a filmgoer when their brain is turned off and they can sit back and enjoy a spectacle. But thinking of it that way is disrespectful to both Lanthimos’ ambition and Stone’s nuanced performance.

Worse than that, “Poor Things” fails to recognize a growing issue in the 2023 film landscape, which sees audiences being encouraged to think deeply about the media they’re consuming, but not deep enough to deter them from continuing to buy tickets.

Rating: 2/5