In Greta, Academy Award-winning director Neil Jordan (The Crying Game) has written and directed a predictable and pulpy thriller that’s intended to scare us away from ever being a good Samaritan trying to do the right thing. Word of caution: If you find a handbag on the bus or subway, or left behind in the grocery cart at Publix, Leave. It. Alone.
Here’s a case where see something, say something can bite you in the ass as Frances (Chloë Grace Moretz), a naive young woman trying to make it on her own in New York, finds a lost handbag and tracks down its owner, Greta (Isabelle Huppert, Academy Award nominee for Elle), an eccentric French piano teacher grateful for the young woman’s effort. Frances is still grieving over the recent death of her mother, and Greta is a lonely widow, so the two become fast friends.
But Greta’s beguiling appeal soon becomes manipulative and controlling; what was charming becomes alarming, and ultimately obsessive and potentially fatal. Greta’s name can’t help but remind us of the fable of Hansel and Gretel, in which the witch lures the lost children with candy until she has them right where she wants to keep them. Here, eye-droppers and syringes with poison, and a devastating scene involving a cookie cutter and rolling pin, add to the gruesome fairy tale.
Again, as a reminder, just walk away from any handbag you might find on the seat beside you.
It’s a thrill ride of a movie as you watch Frances slide further and further under Greta’s control, and you marvel at Huppert’s ability to ooze the magnetism while at same time pulling Frances tighter and tighter into her black widow’s web.
In a combination of the worst impulses of Stephen King, Brian DePalma and Hitchcock, it’s pulp, pure pulp, but like Florida’s sweet and pulpy orange juice, it tastes so good going down — even while you’re jumping and flinching and grabbing the arm of your movie partner. Hidden rooms, creepy coincidences, sudden appearances, moody handheld-camera cinematography, smartphone stalking, Franz Liszt’s evocative and mysterious Liebesträume (translated as Dreams of Love), even a thrashing bag, and that damn insistent metronome make sure we never breathe easy, even while we are willing voyeurs to all this manipulation. Knowing that Huppert got the big award at Cannes one year ago for her role in The Piano Teacher only heightens our appreciation for her own playing the piano in this film.
Oh, but there is also such delicious dialogue in this campfest. Greta turns up as table-for-one in the classy restaurant where Frances is waitressing. Frances innocently asks, "How is the Chianti?" Huppert as Greta turns those steely eyes to Frances, and with pursed, twitching lips, replies, “Like you… promises a lot and then disappoints.” But this restaurant scene soon devolves into an unintentionally laughable close with Greta being dragged off in a straitjacket after she trashes the place, flipping tables with scenery-chewing hysterics.
When the characters go in for a hug, it’s a sucker-punch instead. Friendly banter becomes ominous, sweet attention yields to stalking, and cozy turns claustrophobic. Strangers are not what they seem.
Handbags belong in Lost & Found.
Ben Wiley taught literature and film at St. Petersburg College. At USF/Tampa, he was statewide Director of the Florida Consortium/University of Cambridge (UK) International Summer Schools. His interests are film, books, and kayaking Florida rivers. He also writes the BookStories feature in Creative Loafing Tampa. Contact him at CinemaBen@outlook.com here.
This article appears in Feb 28 – Mar 7, 2019.