The documentary Melania, which follows the first lady in the 20 days leading up to her husband’s 2025 presidential inauguration, has already been savaged by critics. It is ‘shallow’ and ‘a shameless infomercial’ and ‘designer taxidermy’, and according to Variety, ‘if they showed this on a plane people would still walk out’. It is, it’s true, a film that could have been authored by Hello! magazine, but isn’t there some value in seeing how someone wants to be seen? There’s also no shame in being in it for the rich lifestyle porn – on that count it delivers handsomely. I was hanging on to every detail, from what will be served at the inauguration dinner (golden eggs and caviar) to the width of the ribbon on her hat. (Should it be narrowed? Will it be?) I was gripped, and there you have it, something for the poster, at last. ‘Gripping’ – The Spectator.
I have clingfilmed items in the freezer that are less aloof and show more life
It has been made by Jeff Bezos’s Amazon ($40 million for the film; $35 million for the marketing), with Melania as executive producer, and it’s directed by Brett Ratner of the Rush Hour franchise, who was then booted out of Hollywood after multiple accusations of sexual misconduct. Mrs Trump, however, is not the kind to hold people’s pasts against them. (Her favourite musical artist, she will confide, is Michael Jackson.) It opens with a shot of her feet in those trademark vertiginous heels, which will become a leitmotif. (Some have suggested Ratner has a foot fetish.) Whether by accident or design, you get the impression of someone who has been meticulously constructed from the bottom up. The person behind the persona has always been a mystery. ‘Everyone wants to know…’ her voiceover says at the outset, ‘so here it is.’ And yet here it really isn’t. Seventy-five million dollars, all told, and she gets away without lifting the drapery at all. That’s genius, surely.
The film opens with those heels and then it’s scene after scene of her in transit, either disembarking from an SUV to a private plane or vice versa. It’s like Succession without the juicy bits. She is a feline-eyed beauty with a face that remains expressionless throughout. I have clingfilmed items in the freezer that are less aloof and show more life. I was mesmerised. (‘Mesmerising’ – The Spectator.) We see her meet with her stylist to discuss ribbon widths. (Spoiler alert: it is narrowed.) She meets with her events organiser to discuss the ‘golden eggs and caviar’. We see her take a Zoom meeting with Brigitte Macron to discuss their deep concerns about social media and children even if, at the inauguration itself, Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg and Tim Cook appear to have front-row seats, which may be considered mixed messaging. Donald pops up every now and then. He treats her as yet another luxury object. ‘You look beautiful,’ he says. ‘She is the most incredible first lady,’ he also says, to which she says, simply, ‘Yes’. It’s hard to tell if there is affection there or not. They often hold hands at public events but I’ve always wondered if their pre-nup included a hand-holding quota per year and she was ticking them off in her head. Who knows what goes on in that head.
The film never touches on their courtship or her Slovenian childhood or politics or whether she has any kind of hinterland – does she have friends? – and it concludes with three screens of her first-lady accomplishments, even though we never see her accomplish anything beyond looking at stuff and asking if it can be made a bit smaller. It’s like the stitched-together outtakes from some reality show. But if this is how she wants to be seen, perhaps there is nothing more? Perhaps she’s become so abstracted from reality that presenting herself as that luxury object is now all that matters to her? Either way, it’s fascinating, and I do hope she appreciates the good work I’ve put in for the poster.
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