Why Netflix’s Blonde Is the Most Difficult Film to Watch in 2022

Netflix’s Blonde will for sure be bringing some buzz when awards season starts, particularly for the outstanding performance by Ana de Armas.

Entertainment

By Rohini Rajhansh On Oct 3, 2022

Why Netflix's Blonde Is the Most Difficult Film to Watch in 2022

The following contains spoilers for Blonde, which is streaming on Netflix.

Netflix’s Blonde will for sure be bringing some buzz when awards season starts, particularly for the outstanding performance by Ana de Armas. But the film, which highlights some of Marilyn Monroe’s, aka Norma Jean, most sufferable moments, is an adaptation from a novel of the same name by author Joyce Carol Oates and has very little to tell about the happier side of the late star. Despite being based on Monroe’s life, Blonde steps away from other in-depth biopics and becomes one of the most difficult films to watch.

From her childhood then into stardom, depression and death, the film portrays Monroe from tragedy to tragedy and does not shy away from an abrasive observation of those moments, as if it wishes to mainly show how someone’s brilliance can be constantly diminished to insignificant sexual exploitation. The film is, nevertheless, a critical exploration of how her sensual symbolism obliterated her true self, constantly patronized in a world controlled by men and an industry driven by the male gaze.

It is quite ambiguous the way director Andrew Dominik chooses to portray Norma Jean. The book is more balanced in presenting a side of Monroe that was ambitious and intelligent, and while the film offers a few glimpses here and there, it feels merely like a portrait of a beautiful object that keeps being smashed and repaired along the way by the constant physical and sexual assault. Yet Dominik’s vision is carefully built on erotic surrealism, accompanied by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’ beautiful but chilling tunes, which contrasts Monroe’s dual personality.

She longs to be Norma Jean, while the world hungers for Marilyn Monroe. The two personalities are driven by de Armas with nuance, who is extremely committed to the role throughout the two-hour and 45-minute slow-burn film. Yet, frustration arises, not only for her suffering but also because it feels like she evolves very little after each setback. There is no denying that the image of Monroe is too dominant for Norma Jean to control, an image franchised by industry and empowered by society. Dominik leaves no room for both in the same body and, therefore, no alternative or salvation to her despair.

Blonde succeeds in the way that it is able to put the audience in Monroe’s shoes; her suffering becomes unbearable after some point when the dooming pattern becomes too obvious to ignore. The film almost justifies her putting an end to her life because if it becomes so hard to watch, one can only imagine what it must’ve been to live it. In the end, there is no closure, the viewer is completely drained of hope and energy.

Somewhere there is still a fuller life story to be told about Norma Jeane, but it is not Blonde. Choosing to approach just this side of Monroe’s life is ultimately the filmmakers’ decision, but it definitely limits the biopic of one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. Nevertheless, the attention to detail, specifically in Ana de Armas’ portrait, is of praise. One of the movie’s most memorable moments highlights her innate talent; in it, Norma Jean faces the mirror calling Monroe to take over her body, and when she does, Monroe laughs — and de Armas disappears to give way to her.