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Newly
released from a psychiatric hospital, Lee (Gyllenhaal) returns home
to find a nest of insecurities preserved intact. DadÂ’s still
drunk, MomÂ’s flakier than a choux pastry and big sis has moved
into the pool house with her he-bimbo husband. WhatÂ’s an inveterate
self-harmer to do, except reach for the knivesÂ…
On
successfully applying for a job as assistant to lawyer E Edward
Grey (Spader), itÂ’s not long before her self-hate surfaces
and he spots her attempting to administer a dose of pointy-tipped
medicine. Albeit something of a slime ball, he forbids her from
ever doing so again. Instead he grabs the reigns (quite literally),
and decides what punishment she is to receive and when - throwing
the switch on the black light bulb that illuminates the secret desires
of both.
The
sight of Lee manacled to a shoulder bar, her soft blouse creating
the appearance of wings as she pulls a sheet of typing free with
her mouth, is one which few can deny appears both sexy and inversely
empowering. From the outset she remains a willing participant, and
instead itÂ’s Edward who wavers and becomes all but overwhelmed
by the guilt of his naughty-but-nice urges.
While
it may be a little clumsy as a visual footnote, at one point Lee
sits in a diner on her lunch hour listening to a self-help tape
for the newly dominant/submissive. Having blossomed under a regime
of humiliation and regular spankings, sheÂ’s not about to give
it all up just because the boss is too chicken to continue. The
knives are gone, but the claws are most definitely out.
Secretary
juggles genre and tone as it might saucepans of boiling water. Hurling
comedy, erotica and kooky observational drama into the air it manages
to avoid a horrible collision of content along the lines of Boxing
Helena, which attempted – only laughably so – to explores
a similar power dynamic. One in which trust and dependence are exaggerated
tenfold, leaving sex untouched upon the shelf.
Instead
Lee and EdwardÂ’s extreme, emotional tango, while playing it
for laughs rather than tears, results in a sweet if occasionally
simplistic poster movie for the alterna-lifestyle bracket.
Gyllenhaal,
having previously appeared as gun toting cine-mentalist Raven in
John Water's Cecil B. Demented, and alongside her brother Jake in
Donnie Darko, here graduates to lead status with considerable bravery.
Not every actress would agree to inspect her red raw arse cheeks
in the bathroom mirror, but Gyllenhaal loses not an ounce of respect
for it. Quite the opposite.
Hairbrush
manufacturers take note – if you notice a jump in sales, you
have this lady to thank for it.
Words:
Bren O'Callaghan
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