top of page
Writer's pictureJayne O'Dwyer

Maxine Lund, Being John Malkovich, and the Cool Angular Real Bitch


Source: USA Films

Being John Malkovich creates a world that is both literally and figuratively sweaty. Through sepia-tones and dialogue that oscillates between whip smart and whiny, Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman create a Kafkaesque web of unrequited desires. Puppeteer Craig Schwartz - played by an unfortunately ponytailed John Cusack - wants to perform his puppet shows but feels blocked by “the man.” His wife Lotte - Cameron Diaz in a wig that should be considered curly-haired slander - sulks around their Jumanji-on-Ketamine apartment and asks Craig when they can have a baby. Titular actor John Malkovich wants everyone to just get out of his head. In the midst of all this yearning, one character manages to get what she wants: Maxine Lund.


Maxine - played by the assured and acerbic Catherine Keener - takes up space the moment she enters the frame. In a setting that compresses those who enter - the half floor of LesterCorp means no one may stand up right - she manages to find ways to lengthen and attract the eye. Juxtaposed against the sweatiness, her sex appeal is apparent with a sharp bob, clingy clothing, and red lips. It is unsurprising that she takes command of the screen, and Craig’s desperate advances only further emphasizes the control she wields. She makes it clear she thinks he’s below her: “If you ever got me, you wouldn’t have a clue what to do with me.”


When Craig professes his feelings for her, he is trailing after her in pursuit. As she steps into the elevator, Craig laments: “I feel something for you Maxine. I’ve never felt this way before, you know, about anybody, not even my wife, and I just, I really feel like you and I belong together, Maxine.” Now in the elevator, Maxine stands at her full height. Thwarted by the half floor, Craig is completely bent over, hands open and outstretched, as if prostrating himself before her. She leans back against the elevator railing, cup of coffee in one hand, bag and coat in the other. As the doors close, she delivers a singular “awwh” of put-upon pity so sharp it could lop that dreaded ponytail right off Craig’s head.


In a world of Manic Pixie Dream Girls, Maxine is a Cool Angular Real Bitch (a CARB, if you will). She cold calls John Malkovich then seduces him. She turns the trip to Malkovich’s subconscious into a bonafide cash cow. Then she seduces Lotte inside Malkovich, then Craig inside Malkovich, and subsequently breaks up their marriage. Maxine is frank about her desire for attention. She’s a freak: she tells Craig she wants them to have sex on a table then make Malkovich “eat an omelette off it.” She is spikey and brazen and unflappable; when so many of the characters in the film are left yearning, Maxine gets what she wants, and it’s delicious to watch.


Why, however, is a Cool Angular Real Bitch like Maxine such an anomaly in the late nineties and early 2000s? Catherine Keener received a Best Supporting Actress nomination for her role in the 1999 film, yet the female performances surrounding her turn in Malkovich are decidedly that of Manic Pixie Dream Girls. Preceding Malkovich is the 1998 indie darling Buffalo ‘66, in which Christina Ricci plays a teen girl named Layla who wears sparkling blue eyeshadow and tap dances her way into a Stockholm Syndrome situation with Vincent Gallo. Following Malkovich is a slew of female characters that are seen through the male gaze, such as Penny Lane in Almost Famous, Clementine in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, even Maria Singer in Fight Club for a darker turn.


Unlike the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, who is projected entirely through the prism of her male counterpart, Maxine loses her power once she is tied to Craig as John Malkovich. When she becomes the manager for his successful puppeteer career - the woman behind the man - she loses her spark. Her power is in her independence. Maxine never yearns for male attention, she gets it and weaponizes it. She isn’t looking for approval but a means to her own end.


As opposed to the other female characters of her time, who are refracted versions of the desires of the men to which they are connected, Maxine owns her desire and makes it plain: “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have two people look at you, with total lust and devotion, through the same pair of eyes?” No, Maxine, but you make me wonder.

0 comments

Comments


bottom of page