First, a little history... ...You're welcome. And now back to your regularly scheduled Jane Fonda-ing: "The ultimate Camp statement: ...it’s good because it’s awful." - Susan Sontag
"Camp taste is, above all, a mode of enjoyment, of appreciation — not judgment.
"It is camp because it both succeeds and fails so spectacularly.” - Riccardo Slavik Full disclosure, I knew I was going to LOVE this movie the second I read the description on IMDB. It just has too many exquisite things going for it, and you should know by now what a sucker I am for all things #camp. Beyond the delicious premise - Barbarella is an astronaut from Earth sent to a Sodom & Gomorrah like planet to find and stop the evil scientist who wants to destroy humanity, with the help of a literal ARCHANGEL with a fear of flying (who is inexplicably played by a German underwear supermodel??) - Jane goes above and fucking beyond letting herself be Sexploited. She gives us ALL the eye-twinkling from Barefoot in the Park and MORE. She knows exactly what the fuck this is, and she's having FUN with it. This is True Camp. "Camp is a solvent of morality. It neutralizes moral indignation, sponsors playfulness." I think I first fell in love with camp accidentally... I might get shit for saying this, but tbh it was when I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the first time. They had to lay heavy on their tongue-in-cheek, self-deprecating, self-aware humor to compensate for their lack of a sci-fi special effects budget, and for me, it fucking WORKED. I was in a shitty place emotionally when I discovered Buffy - wallowing in teen angst and self-pity, but totally lacking the maturity or vocabulary to articulate my deep and valid emotions - and something about mocking the very thing that I wanted the most clicked in my head. Cheesiness, campiness, they were just languages for people who desperately wanted to talk about their feelings but thought feelings were "dumb." For the misanthropic, camp is the only path to catharsis. At least for me it was. I honestly don't even want to do a recap for Barbarella because you should really all go watch it yourself, but I'll give you my highlights reel:
"Camp is the heroism of people not called upon to be heroes." - Phillip Core Jane Fonda does some wicked acting here, and it's a testament to how grounded and strong she fundamentally is as a person - made all the more impressive if you watch her HBO documentary Jane in Five Acts (highly recommend) and learn that she wasn't feeling all that grounded at that time in her personal life. But that's the magic of Jane: whatever was going on off-camera, she is a heroine at heart. I think the reason this movie has survived as a cult classic (and not solely as a symbol of sexploitation) is because never feel worried for her. Is what she's doing ridiculous? Of course. Is it relying her sexuality and capitalizing on it? You betcha. Is she totally aware, and leaning into it, and having fun with it, and owning the shit out of it? Fuck yes. Because you know that deep down she is extremely intelligent and capable and, in a sense, "in charge," you can relax and enjoy the absurdity of it... and why not? She is!
So this is what's called an "anthology," a film comprised of three 45 minute segments all based on Edgar Allen Poe adaptations. Jane is only in the first one, a piece called Metzengerstein. It was actually Poe's first published piece, largely based on a very old German folktale.
It's important to remember that Vadim, Jane's husband at the time, not only directed this piece but also worked on the modernization... because shit's about to get really weird. FIRST OF ALL, the original story goes something like this: It's medieval times, and there are two warring families in the same kingdom. Their hatred for each other goes back so many generations no one can even remember what it's over (although an ancient prophecy about one house destroying the other might be involved). One day, the Lord of House Metzengerstein basically says "enough is enough!" and decides to kill the Lord of the other house by burning down his castle (how exactly DOES one burn down a castle though??). The Lord of the house dies, but there is one survivor... a black horse, whom Lord Metzengerstein becomes weirdly obsessed with. Deep down he low key believes it's the Lord of the house come back to haunt him - but for some reason doesn't kill the horse?? - and just gets, like, really into hanging out with the horse. Then one day - presumably after the horse has lulled the murdery lord into a false sense of security - the horse kicks him off a cliff and he dies. So... moral of the story: don't murder people, or they'll come back as animals and MURDER YOU. I give the story a 7/10. So Vadim sees this story and is like "OH BOY I HAVE AN IDEA! Let's make my hot wife, Jane Fonda, the murdery lord... but instead of the enemy of her house, let's make it her HOT COUSIN... and hang on here, 'cause it's about to get interesting... let's cast her enemy/hot cousin as... PETER FONDA, HER REAL LIFE BROTHER!! And also let's make her "obsession" with the horse HIGHLY erotic. Like no question about it, my wife wants to fuck a horse. And also her brother. But not in that order." AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS. HOLLYWOOD JUST LET HIM FUCKING DO THAT.
Her acting in this is nothing extraordinary, because she doesn't have a whole lot to work with... she's supposed to be this delightfully hedonistic, cruel, Cersei-like queen (*cough* incest *cough*) who accidentally falls in love with her worse enemy, then kills him, then becomes obsessed with what she believes is him in ghost-form trapped IN A FUCKING HORSE, and then lets herself go INSANE until the horse literally rides her into a field of flames (??) and they both die. Together. In love. ...I'd like to blame this all on what a CREEP George Vadim is, but tbh, this as been an ongoing problem in Hollywood for some time. Like seriously, where did this obsession with hot blondes and big hairy animals come from??
Like I think it's weird enough when directors choose to direct their wives in sex scenes - remember Revolutionary Road??? Yeah, that was directed by Kate Winslet's then-husband, Sam Mendes. Fucking WEIRD. Not to mention literally EVERY Tim Burton/Johnny Depp/Helena Bonham Carter movie... like I think Tim Burton was just hardcore into cuckolding and didn't know how to express it except via film?? The point is, this was pre-GoT, so what's with the totally overlooked incest vibes??
If I learned one valuable thing from Spirits of the Dead it was that Cruel Jane is definitely in her Wheelhouse. Like every actor has a few "types" that they play really well - if you remember from last time, Bitch Meryl was my favorite, Shrill Meryl was my least favorite - and I think we'll be seeing a lot more from Cruel Jane again in the future. She's got all the chutzpah of Spunky But Immature Jane, but she's evolved. That being said, Cruel Jane didn't get to play very much this round - there were just too many knockouts from Camp Jane. And the winner is... 
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So we're skipping ahead a little, because I am DETERMINED to film the Barbarella bracket even if it KILLS ME (which it very well might). In the meantime, take off all your clothes, get in bed, pull up some Turkish food, a glass of Scotch, and READ MY FUCKING BLOG.
HOLY ADORABLE JANE FONDA. I am obviously already a fan of Jane. I've always thought she had truly underrated comedic timing, and this film showcases the hell out of it. People remember Young Jane for being sexy as hell - and don't get me wrong, she fucking was - but Young Jane was smart as a WHIP too. Neil Simon's language is quick, it's subtle, and it's tongue-in-cheek, so it's painfully apparent when the speaker isn't fully picking up the nuance. Jane played that balance like a goddamn world class violinist. Minute 1:22 of this clip is when I knew that Jane Fonda was - as I'd suspected after all these years - the girl of my dreams. I have to give the Janesploitation Award to the actual premise of the story: our stars are newlyweds, and while Redford Buttchin is bringing home the bacon, Jane Fonda is figuring out how to be a good housewife - filled with hilarious shenanigans like accidentally renting an apartment that's up 1500 flights of stairs, or inviting the casually rapey and racist portrayal of a foreign neighbor over for dinner without getting Hubby's permission first.  To be fair, the commentary seems to be more about how the two don't have as much in common as they thought they did - Jane is so carefree she doesn't notice the stairs; she has so much joie de vivre she overlooks the inherent rapiness of the neighbor - but it still comes across with a heavy-handed omnipotent eye roll, and you find yourself waiting for Robert Buttchin to give an Jim-Halpert-esque look to the camera as if to say, "Really? Really, Jane Fonda? ...Women."
But in the end, it's NOT Jane's free spirit (*cough* naivete *cough*) that sends them through the ringer, it's Robert Buttchin's smudgeness. Again, this is a bit of a cop-out because they're wildly overlooking the misogynistic expectations of husbands and wives of the era - Robert is cranky because Jane got an apartment without a bath, and he NEEDS TO HAVE HIS BATHS, JANE - but it was supposed to be a lighthearted comedy, and they were ultimately about as respectful and progressive as they could be. If Robert could only be less smudge, he'd realize that Jane loved the shit out of him, bath or no bath.  Not every movie in this series is going to be a #banger, but this one actually was. For the *most* part, it holds up the test of time, and I really can't say the same for the pre-1970s era of film. I mean, just fucking LOOK AT JANE FONDA. Here she is, totally being sexploited, but she's making it her own. Actually, you know what? I figured out what makes this movie different. Up until now, Jane's always been typecast as either 1) innocent, virginal, girl-next-door, or 2) a literal prostitute. This is the first role we've seen her in where she's a healthy dose of BOTH - you know, like actual real human women are. A little naive, but not clueless; sexy, but not a sex-worker (not that there's anything wrong with that, but also like Jesus at least portray them accurately). She's sassy, she's smart, and she's figuring it out. And she is so, so funny. Comedic timing: 10/10 Physical comedy: 10/10 Sexiness: 10/10 Intelligence: 10/10 Irony: 10/10 Chemistry: 10/10
If Jane was fluent in the dialect of Neil Simon, it stands to say that her French could use a little work. I wanted to be proud of her in this - and I am proud of her for learning another language fluently and committing to act in it - but truthfully, her French is painfully American. As someone raised by bilingual parents (and Francophones at that), I am intimately aware of the years and years it takes to develop and cultivate a natural sounding accent. After over a decade of living in Europe, the best compliment my parents ever received was when Francophones assumed they were British! Sadly, I cannot say the same for Jane. Actual footage of Jane Fonda learning French:That being said, literally no one is paying one fuck of an attention to her accent in this, because ummmmmmmm have you seen her in this?? Brigitte Bardot may have been the first sex kitten, but Jane Fonda was a close second (SIDEBAR: DID ANYONE ELSE KNOW THAT "COUGAR" IS SHORT FOR "SEX KITTEN"??? THE TWO ARE RELATED?!?!?! DUH?!??!!)  Jane stays in bed all day and she's a "sex kitten," but when I stay in bed all day I "have depression." Unfair.  Like with 99% of the movies I watch, I have one chief complaint: could've been a heck of a lot gayer. But seriously, I think the premise is actually delightful, and in this golden era of Streaming Platform Original Movies, why not remake La Ronde? Vadim's 1964 version was a remake of Max Ophüls's production from 1950, and both stories are loosely based on the 1897 play Reigen by Arthur Schnitzler. It's a simple concept, really: 1) A whore offers to sleep with a soldier in Paris for free, because he reminds her of an old lover 2) The soldier thinks he's too good for her, but now has a raging boner (??) so he goes off to seduce a sad but hot nerd at some party 3) She is basically raped at this party, and seeks to spread the nasty by boning her employer's virgin college-aged son (complete in a sexy French maid outfit, of course. Or, I guess since they're all in France, they just call it a sexy maid outfit?) 4) Now that he's been deflowered, the son is inspired to go on a banging spree of his own, and he finally seduces this hot married chick he's been pining over (Jane Fonda!) 5) Jane is so inspired by how great this kid is at boning (and it was only his second time!) that she decides to go home to her husband and sleep with him for a change, aww so sweet 6) Her previously blue-balled husband has had the off switches turned to on, and makes a pass at a hot seamstress. She declines his super flattering offer to be his mistress, because she's applying to be an Ivy League mistress to a moody writer who she's really hoping will write his next great hit about her 7) SPOILER ALERT the writer does NOT go for the costume designer, he goes for SURPRISE the actress 8) But the actress is only interested in young hot guys, particularly some Count dude 9) The Count bangs her, then goes on a banging spree across Paris 10) After a Frank-Gallagher-esque night of blacking out, the Count wakes up with CAN YOU GUESS WHO yep the same goddamn prostitute from the beginning.
The point is, this story could either: 1) be a VERY powerful PSA about how sexually transmitted diseases are spread, or... 2) be a VERY gay story. Seriously, keep it pretty much the same, but minus the SWERFs and the TERFs and make it like 1000% gayer. I'd watch the fuck out of that show.
La Ronde is the closest I think we'll ever get to seeing Jane ride by on her looks, and it's not necessarily her fault - that's literally just how the character is written. I also suspect a lot of the tongue-in-cheek subtleties of the script are lost in translation, because she's performing in another language. Barefoot was, in some ways, a similar type of character - playing the fool, but always with a twinkle in the eye. In Barefoot it was "but sir, you know I'm only sixteen!" and in La Ronde it was "oh you didn't tell me there was a bed in here!" She's adorable, she's playful, she's sexy as can be. ...But isn't she just a little sexier when she's got some meat on her bones? I mean metaphorically, of course, we're in peak Bulimic Jane here, but Barefoot just has a few more bulbs in the tanning bed, a little more bark in her bite. And that's the Jane I want to see: Jane With Teeth. The moral of the story is: be gayer, be drunker, be toothier. And the winner is... Witchcraft. Jazz musicians. Doctors not believing women. A fur coat. Slut shaming. Excessive misogyny. Why, it feels like 1962 was just yesterday! The Janesploitation Award this week goes to the ENTIRETY of both these exhausting, hilarious, devastating, terrible films. (TW: rape, gang rape, a nihilistic reminder that nothing has changed for women since the 1960s, and these movies are ONLY focusing on the rich white ones!)
 SUMMER OF JANE IS HERE!  I obviously just couldn't get enough, because I'm back at it for a monstrous, 32-film bracket to determine THE GREATEST JANE FONDA PERFORMANCE OF ALL TIME. I couldn't be more excited. In an attempt to tap into my Millennial super powers, the first bracket is... A YOUTUBE VIDEO. Apparently, computers have changed since I was a kid, and even at the tender age of 27 I am clearly too old to know WHAT THE FUCK I'M DOING. This video was frustrating. Confusing. Infuriating. It literally took years off my life. And I had to make it TWICE. But here she is, in all her MOTHERFUCKING GLORY. Behold, the VERY FIRST FILM INSTALLMENT OF JANE JUNE. **no promises that the next one will be a video too**
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Best Accent: | Best Costumes: | Best Music: |
And yes, all of this is just avoiding the painful inevitable. I don't want to lose friends. I don't want to disappoint whoever the fuck has actually been reading this. I don't want you to forever question my good taste.
Here, watch this 20 minute Meryl Streep documentary instead, while I muster up the courage to announce the winner:
That was pretty great, right? Shout out to Be Kind Rewind for putting it together, subscribe to their channel or whatever.
OKAY. Okay. The time has come.
I have deliberated about this with extreme intention. I used exhaustive analytical comparison. I debated and did research.
But ultimately, if I'm being honest, the moment I saw this movie - or rather, the moment I saw this particular scene - I knew it was going to be the winner.
For me, Adaptation is the culmination of all of Meryl's strengths as an actor: her vulnerability and her resilience. Bitch Meryl and Ugly Meryl. Hints of Scrappy Meryl. Major #BigDickEnergy Meryl.
There is a moment in the film where Meryl's character has essentially thrown away her whole life to take a chance on this toothless, low-class man (an extraordinary Chris Cooper) to show her the extremely rare Ghost Orchid. She trudges through the waist-deep mud of the swamps - a painful metaphor for what she's doing with her personal life - to get to this flower that's supposed to have made it all worth it.
And her fucking face when she sees it:
Disappointment. Utter and abject disappointment. Like a child finding out Santa Claus isn't real. Like a young adult finally accepting that God doesn't speak to you. Like a woman getting her heart broken for the first time.
THAT. RIGHT THERE. THAT IS WHAT DID IT FOR ME.
Yes, part of it can be attributed to the exceptional screenplay, but I literally cannot imagine another actor doing this role justice. I simply cannot. In all fairness, another actor could've damn near matched her role in Kramer. Or The Deer Hunter.
But you will never convince me otherwise that another actor could've done what she did - gone where she went - felt what she felt - and shown it with such MOTHERFUCKING EXQUISITE SUBTLETY - like Meryl Streep does in Adaptation.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. WE HAVE THE WINNER OF MERYL GODDAMN MADNESS.
ADAPTATION
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I *almost* wish that the bracket had been different, because I feel like a better fight would've been August v. She-Devil and Adaptation v. Kramer. Stylistically, Meryl's performance in August is actually closer to what she does in She-Devil: unhinged, unrated, self-indulgent. It's Big Dick Energy but with a most womanly rage, fermented in years of resentment and handed a cocktail of bourbon and Xanax. This is Big Acting, and it's done right.
AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY
ADAPTATION
...Even just looking at the photos from Adaptation my stomach starts tingling. I ask myself, was it really that good? And the answer is a resounding YES.
But so was August! Meryl went to NEW DEPTHS of ugliness for August. She laid herself goddamn BARE. It was loud and big and ugly and unforgivable and vulnerable and gut-wrenching and heartbreaking. NO ONE ELSE could have done what she did in August with as much nuance and conviction.
But Meryl did all those things in Adaptation, and she did it with much less yelling. Does that really make it "better acting?"
Not always, maybe. But in this case, it does.
...Looks like I'll be getting Adaptation v. Kramer after all.
This might seem like it's going to be an easy choice, but it's not. Sure, if I was The Academy - who has notoriously never acknowledged comedic roles as "real acting" - I'd hand the victory off to Kramer and be done with it. But I'm not The Academy, I am Sarah Fucking Ruthless, and I'm gonna make Kramer fight for it.
We are at the Final Four. There is no room for fucking around. It's going to get technical, it's going to get specific, and most of all, it's going to get personal.
I keep finding myself asking the question: Who does more?
But is that what acting is? Who DOES more? Many would argue that acting - film acting, at least - is the exact opposite: who does less. Who conveys the MOST emotion with the LEAST emoting? Every acting student under the sun has heard the age-old mantra: Show, Don't Tell.
I generally fall into the camp that worships magnificent subtlety. To be honest, that's what drew me away from theatre and made me fall in love with film: you can get away with subtlety on camera that you just can't do onstage. I've always admired that skill the most, probably because I am so prone to over-acting, over-expressing, over-indulging. Maybe that's why I'm so in love with Meryl's performance in She-Devil. It's Meryl Fucking Unhinged, Meryl Unrated, Meryl Not Holding Back. It's self-indulgent in the best possible way. It's the Anti-Kristen-Stewart of performances. The stakes have never been higher. She-Devil-Meryl is fighting for her life JUST AS HARD as Kramer-Meryl is.
SHE-DEVIL
KRAMER V. KRAMER
If this were a contest in Best Facial Expressions, She-Devil would win, hands down. But to say that good acting is just a series of "facial expressions" would be as insulting as calling someone a good actor because "they can memorize all those lines."
I would argue that comedy is, in a sense, harder than drama because of the commitment. Any sane person would look at Spoiled Brat Meryl in She-Devil and say that her stakes are not as high as Fighting For Her Mental Health & Custody Of Her Son Meryl in Kramer. Pulling off that performance in She-Devil meant believing, REALLY FUCKING BELIEVING, with every fiber of her goddamn pink silk & bubble-covered being, that she was RIGHT and that her fight was worth fighting. That's WAY harder to do than fighting for something more obvious or forgivable as wanting to see your own son again.
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I want to make it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that I value comedic acting as a VALID form of talent, and in many cases, I think it takes far MORE depth, range, commitment, and chutzpah to pull of a comedic role than a dramatic role.
...But Meryl's performance in Kramer was just that damn good.
KRAMER V. KRAMER
Truth be told, Florence Foster Jenkins was a wildly underrated performance. Like, I'm literally the only person I know who's even seen the movie, and Meryl did receive her TWENTIETH OSCAR NOMINATION for it. Frankly, before #MerylMadness began, I thought that some of her nominations - Devil Wears Prada, for example - were just lazy on behalf of the Academy. Like there were literally NO other impressive performances that year to choose from?
Then I watched them. Her performances in Julie & Julia and Into the Woods certainly did not deserve to be nominated. But her work in Devil Wears Prada and Florence Foster Jenkins totally did.
Her performance in Florence is legitimately heartbreaking. She's the Poor Little Rich Girl, a miraculous but untouchable survivor of Syphilis, a trust-fund baby, with little else to live for in life but her passionate love of music - the closest she'll ever get to true romance - and God has cursed her with the world's most awful singing voice. The tragedy is all the more heightened by the fact that everyone in her life is greedy for her disposable wealth, and will lavish her with praise and support so long as she keeps paying them.
The entire time you're sitting there wondering if she's really that deluded, or if deep down she knows she can't sing but doesn't care, because everyone's pretending she can. It's like an exaggerated, twisted, and arguably darker take on The Emperor's New Clothes, except the Emperor is a sad old woman dying of Syphilis and her "clothes" are the one thing in life that bring her joy: to sing, to sing at the top of your lungs, not because of who might be listening but because of how it makes her feel.
A moment of appreciation for Florence:
Her performance in Florence is legitimately heartbreaking. She's the Poor Little Rich Girl, a miraculous but untouchable survivor of Syphilis, a trust-fund baby, with little else to live for in life but her passionate love of music - the closest she'll ever get to true romance - and God has cursed her with the world's most awful singing voice. The tragedy is all the more heightened by the fact that everyone in her life is greedy for her disposable wealth, and will lavish her with praise and support so long as she keeps paying them.
The entire time you're sitting there wondering if she's really that deluded, or if deep down she knows she can't sing but doesn't care, because everyone's pretending she can. It's like an exaggerated, twisted, and arguably darker take on The Emperor's New Clothes, except the Emperor is a sad old woman dying of Syphilis and her "clothes" are the one thing in life that bring her joy: to sing, to sing at the top of your lungs, not because of who might be listening but because of how it makes her feel.
A moment of appreciation for Florence:
Florence Foster Jenkins
"There's this fine line between delusion and courage."
I could do a dramatic comparison of each film's performance, but I don't need to. Both of these performances demanded a radical amount of commitment, vulnerability, and denial. Both of these performances were Oscar-nominated, and rightly so.
But only one can go on.
We have our Final Four.
AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY
I'd like to say there's a chance this may have been a fair fight if Meryl hadn't had an accent... but there isn't.
Adaptation blew my goddamned mind. And while Meryl conveyed an enormous array of emotion and showed a considerable amount of talent in Bridges, these films are just in a different fucking league.
Below, the most emotional scene from Bridges v. the least emotional scene from Adaptation:
Bridges of Madison County
Adaptation
There is no fairly comparing these movies.
AND THIS IS MY GAME SO I DON'T FUCKING HAVE TO.
THE FUCKING WINNER IS:
ADAPTATION
Hello Sarah? It's me, Meryl. Your bracket is amazing. Your blog is divine. You are the most talented woman I know, myself included. I love you.
I have legitimately been dreading this particular bracket so goddamn hard. Because I love both of these movies. So fucking much.
But there can only be one.
I'm seriously so in love with She-Meryl
BUT THEN I'M ALSO IN LOVE WITH EVIL DEAD MERYL
Doing a Ruthless Reasons battle would frankly be EXHAUSTING, because a scene-by-scene comparison clearly shows the GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING RANGE of both these performances.
It is wild.
It is literally OUT OF CONTROL.
I MEAN LOOK AT THESE!!!
Death Becomes Her
She-Devil
I have agonized over this so much.
There is SO MUCH Meryl does in Death Becomes Her. I mean besides the green-screen work, she literally SINGS & DANCES. She is seductive, she is vulnerable. She dies AND she murders! So ultimately, this is gonna come down to that dreaded X Factor.
My Personal Goddamn Preference.
I deliberated. I compared. I ruminated. I debated. AND THEN I DECIDED.
Do you want to know what is ACTUALLY going to determine the winner here?
Please kindly scroll through the video below, and watch 1:16 - 1:25.
There is SO MUCH Meryl does in Death Becomes Her. I mean besides the green-screen work, she literally SINGS & DANCES. She is seductive, she is vulnerable. She dies AND she murders! So ultimately, this is gonna come down to that dreaded X Factor.
My Personal Goddamn Preference.
I deliberated. I compared. I ruminated. I debated. AND THEN I DECIDED.
Do you want to know what is ACTUALLY going to determine the winner here?
Please kindly scroll through the video below, and watch 1:16 - 1:25.
THAT.
THAT RIGHT FUCKING THERE.
THAT LOOK.
THAT LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE BUBBLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND THEN SHE SASHAYS AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we have a winner.
SHE-DEVIL
  |  seriously, look how many times i changed my mind and went back and forth before deciding. |
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Sarah Ruth(less) Joanou is a Chicago based writer, artist, production designer, actor, & cat mom.
