'Damsel' Review
What's an anti-traditionalist to do when we expect him to subvert our expectations?
We’ve long been participants of an era where subversion is the new tradition, ultimately defeating the purpose of subversion. What happens when the anti-traditionalists become the established entertainment? They get too comfortable in their own ideology, assuming they can churn out film after film claiming to “boldly turn fairy tale tropes upside down like never before” and expect no one to notice that this type of subversion has been happening rather frequently for decades. Does anyone remember the last time a fantasy movie featured a damsel rescued by a prince? Is it really that radical for a female heroine to be strong and independent these days? Have we girl-bossed too close to the sun? Traditional fairy tales are obsolete in the film world. Making a classical fairy story today would be the only real act of subversion.
And yet, this too-comfortable attitude ends up saving Damsel from being just another ideologically-driven Netflix film, even affording it the rare benefit of being fun. Yes, actual dumb fun. The word ‘mindless’ came to mind every time a character opened their mouth, and after female-centric action vehicles of recent years have focused on specific didacticism against the patriarchy, the mindlessness of Damsel means the viewer is not constantly reminded who to hate and is instead allowed to enjoy a decidedly feminine Millie Bobby Brown go toe-to-toe with a fire-breathing dragon.
Less fairy story than survival thriller, Damsel has more in common with a video-game quest than with Tolkien fantasy epics, making the garish CGI oddly appropriate. If The Fellowship of the Ring had been given the budget of Spy Kids, you’d have something like Damsel, an attempted fantasy epic with the shoddiest special effects imaginable, but with a frenetic story that becomes endearingly silly and doesn’t overstay its welcome (if it was welcome to begin with).
From the outset, we are told by a narrator that “there are many stories of chivalry where a heroic knight saves the damsel in distress. This is not one of them.” This narration felt tacked on merely to reassure modern audiences that they would not be confronted by fearful western traditions, because what follows is a fairly traditional quest narrative. Yes, the prince is secretly evil. Yes, the wealthy royal family is only using the protagonist for personal gain. Yes, the monster is misunderstood. Yes, the story will feature a damsel saving herself from distress. But because this is all revealed at the beginning, the movie ends up focusing on princess Elodie’s personal quest towards freedom instead of using the entire film to subvert fairy tale tropes. And despite uneven pacing and too much exposition, the race to overcome the odds becomes a surprisingly engaging character arc, with a naïve protagonist cast into the pit of despair (yes, Princess Buttercup is also in this) who then begins the perilous journey towards the light again.
Alas, while these b-movie elements make for a frequently engaging adventure, stepping back makes you remember that Damsel was made by the subversion worshippers, and any semblance of traditional heroism and storytelling feels, and most certainly is, unintentional. One gets the sense the project was thrown together hastily (and it shows with those fire-breathing effects). Had they given more attention to the script, more attention would have likely been given to modern slogan-making. Am I grateful for laziness here? Perhaps so. A slapdash product means going for broad appeal, and as is so often the case, broadly appealing stories have a lasting impact because they are usually rooted in some kind of universal truth. In this case, making a quick buck on a Netflix original meant downplaying the more glaring modernism and upholding a long standing tradition of storytelling where the virtuous underdog beats the odds and restores peace.
Damsel is no masterpiece. It’s not even a good movie by most filmmaking standards. But it might be a sign of subversion eating its own scaly tail. And for that, it was unintentionally fascinating.