“I don’t think we have enough hot dogs.”
So goes the much-memed line spoken by Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore) in the first scene of Todd Haynes’s May December. She’s preparing for a barbecue she’s hosting with her husband, Joe (Charles Melton), whom she met and sexually assaulted when he was 13 and she was 36. Attending the barbecue is Hollywood actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman), who’s arrived in Savannah, Georgia, to research the couple in preparation to portray Gracie in an upcoming film.
Viewers quickly latched on to the hot dogs line because it immediately establishes the film’s unnerving comedic tone, perpetuated by a woman living in a facade of trad domesticity with her own victim. The film depicts such delusion in its characters that it finds a twisted humor in their lifestyle—like in the seriousness with which Gracie addresses their potential hot dog shortage—while never losing sight of the disturbing genesis of Gracie and Joe’s relationship. Given the film’s subject matter, it takes an extremely deft hand to strike this balance. Hence why, even after May December largely fell out of the Oscars race, the film still snagged its sole nomination for Best Original Screenplay—and writers Samy Burch and Alex Mechanik deserve to win.
Make the Case: The 2024 Oscar Winners We Want to See
Ringer writers have lots of opinions about the Oscars: Barbie should get Best Adapted Screenplay; Robert De Niro deserves Best Supporting Actor. Follow along as we make our best arguments for the Oscars we want to see ahead of the 96th Academy Awards on March 10!
- Daniel Joyaux: Barbie Turned the Abstract Into a Cohesive Script. It Deserves the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar.
- Keith Phipps: Robert De Niro Continues to Evolve, Persevere, and Challenge Himself. He Should Win Another Oscar.
- Adam Nayman: From Superhero to Villain: Robert Downey Jr.’s ‘Oppenheimer’ Turn Was Undeniable
- Paul Thompson: Just Do It Already. Give Bradley Cooper a Damn Oscar.
- Julianna Ress: ‘May December’ Found a Delicate Balance to Tell a Disturbing Tale
While the hot dogs line is already one of the film’s most quotable moments, it only scratches the surface of May December’s layered script. Gracie is loosely inspired by Mary Kay Letourneau, a real teacher who raped her sixth-grade student in the late ’90s, served seven years of prison time, and then married him upon release. Like Letourneau, Gracie birthed her victim’s children during her incarceration, and her crimes served as fodder for a tabloid sensation. We see a clip from a schlocky true crime TV movie based on Gracie and Joe’s relationship, and it’s clear that Elizabeth is far from the first voyeur into their world. But she presents herself as a real truth seeker, the person who will finally get their story right. “I thought, ‘Now here is a woman with a lot more to her than I remember from the tabloids,’” Elizabeth explains to Gracie when asked why she wants to play her.
It soon becomes clear that Elizabeth has a severe case of Actor Brain; you know, the kind of thing that causes Bradley Cooper to tear up talking about how much he misses Leonard Bernstein—a man he’s never met—in front of Bernstein’s children. Elizabeth is obviously convinced that her “research” is important, but she fails to recognize her own participation in the same exploitation she’s ostensibly intending to prevent—even as she says the adolescent actors auditioning to play Joe in her film are “cute, but not sexy enough.” May December also conveys that, despite how seriously Elizabeth is taking her role, she’s probably a bad actor—or at least, not a respected one. Joe tells Elizabeth he saw an episode of her TV show in which she “operated on an elephant,” and, in response, she semi-feigns embarrassment. It’s not until near the end of the film that we find out the name of the series: Norah’s Ark. The way the script slowly reveals these funny and dark details throughout not only serves to develop its rich characters, but emphasizes the can’t-look-away sensation that Gracie and Joe’s relationship evokes in others.
Despite the real-life analogs for Gracie and Joe, the way their story is written feels wholly original—even as the script takes details directly from the Letourneau case. Take the scene in which a distraught Joe confronts Gracie about how their relationship started. It’s completely heartbreaking to watch a lifetime of trauma come to a head through Melton (who, despite initially being a Best Supporting Actor front-runner, was totally robbed of a nomination) as the character finally asks Gracie whether he was too young when she pursued him. Gracie responds indignantly: “You seduced me. … Who was the boss?” echoing an outrageous actual interview with Letourneau and her husband, Vili Fualaau. The moment is nearly as jaw-dropping in the film as it is in real life, and its incorporation doesn’t feel like the kind of cheap true crime reenactment the film seeks to critique. The way a public sound bite is adapted into a private moment of manipulation between Gracie and Joe is an ingenious way to show that the delusional outlook she presents to the world plagues even her own bedroom.
Burch and Mechanik’s screenplay tackles several themes, ranging from the ludicrous to the horrifying, but it weaves them together seamlessly by recognizing that they are all connected. The abuse that occurs behind closed doors gets sensationalized by the media and Hollywood, which, in turn, further perpetuates that abuse and creates a cycle. May December explores all of this without ever overexplaining itself, since much of its depth comes from subtle characterization and implied exposition, like Elizabeth’s reputation as an actor. The attention to detail in crafting such a complex script is truly impressive, and proves Burch and Mechanik are worthy of the Best Original Screenplay Oscar.
What also makes May December the clear winner is that it’s going up against a relatively lackluster field. Let’s take a look at the competition: First, we have Anatomy of a Fall, the second-strongest screenplay of the bunch. It expertly explores familial drama in the context of a gripping murder trial. That said, compared to the ingenuity of May December, Anatomy of a Fall leans much more derivative. The bulk of the film takes place in a courtroom, where its protagonist is forced to explain the details of her personal life. And, while it is a worthwhile entry in the legal thriller genre, it lacks originality. Plus, once the story leaves the courtroom, its ambiguous ending doesn’t stick the landing the way May December’s coda on the set of Elizabeth’s film does.
Rounding out the category are The Holdovers, Past Lives, and Maestro: all flawed scripts to varying degrees. The Holdovers, a perfectly enjoyable film, runs out of steam after leaving very little about its characters unsaid. Past Lives suffers from a similar issue—nearly two-thirds of the film is an expository speedrun of the three leads’ relationships, wherein each character flatly explains their feelings, rather than letting actions speak for themselves. The lack of subtlety in those scripts emphasizes May December’s effective storytelling—it informs its characters without elaborating unnecessarily. It never overstays its welcome, even when portraying characters that could easily be perceived as too insufferable. Maestro, the weakest script of the nominees (no disrespect to the abandoned Snoopy in the vestibule), relies much more on Bradley Cooper’s visual direction than his writing, considering he and cowriter Josh Singer weren’t able to crack a particularly compelling take on Leonard Bernstein. The screenplay feels unfocused in its surface-level portrayal of Bernstein’s complicated life, which pales in comparison to May December’s intricate exploration of its own themes.
May December is one of the most distinctive and riveting screenplays to receive an Oscar nomination in recent years. It was disappointing to see the film mostly fall out of awards contention since the acting, directing, and score were so essential to its effectiveness, but none of that would matter if the script didn’t nail its precarious balancing act the way it did. If that’s not enough to convince you, let me please remind you of the phrase “Norah’s Ark.” Give May December the Oscar.
