Christine

When it comes to depicting mental illness, suicidal depression is one of the most under-examined ailments in mainstream movies. Typically this level of depression takes place over a couple of scenes with one specific inciting incident before the suicide attempt followed by the aftermath, recovery, or those left behind. I bring this up because today's movie Christine does its best to determine why TV journalist Christine Chubbuck attempted suicide on live television.

The movie introduces Christine (Rebecca Hall) in the midst of an average day at work...which involves arguing with her station manager over her story selection and his push for ratings driven reporting. Though most view this as Christine's prickly no nonsense demeanor, it quickly becomes clear that Christine's dissatisfaction with her life and job may run deeper than anyone knows. Soon events are put in motion that may push the isolated Christine towards a fateful decision.

There's a critique of this movie we should address right away: that is exploiting a tragedy. Because I am not a member of the Chubbuck family, nor did I witness the event myself, I don't feel qualified to speak on it. However, this is the kind of story where you want explicit permission and consistent input from the family. If that's the case, that's great. But if not, and the family is upset, that feels quite wrong.

That said, Christine is a compelling, if not terribly fun film to watch. The primary reasons? The characterization and performance of Christine. In a lesser film, Christine would be a saintly martyr whose broken expectations for her personal life and career simply push her to the brink. As a film narrative, this doesn't quite work for two reasons. First, it's a view of human nature and life that borders on nihilistic and second is that is automatically makes villains of everyone else in Christine's life.

The movie's solution is to make Christine well-intentioned but excruciatingly uncomfortable. You know at least one person like Christine. Someone smart and competent who manages to say the wrong thing whenever possible and fails to connect with people in social circles. Thus the people around Christine may respect her, but they don't necessarily like her or try to meet up with her. This way we bot have sympathy for Christine's isolation, but also understand why her coworkers don't reach out or intervene.

This awkwardness is fully embodied by Rebecca Hall, who physically transform herself for the role. Hall's performance is masterful because of what she's able to convey with very subtle changes in body language and speech. A flirtatious encounter with her station's anchor (Michael C. Hall) is a perfect example. While she's still incredibly uncomfortable in the situation her bashful approach and averted eyes tells the audience everything they need to know: she likes this guy. It's great stuff.

Christine's humanizing portrayal of its subject also means that the audience dreads each new scene as Christine's disappointments begin to add up and her behavior gets more erratic. It's a slow motion trainwreck that the audience knows is coming which makes the eventual outcome feel inevitable but preventable at the same time.

The film's weaknesses are rooted in unexplored content. Chubbuck's puppet shows for children are endearing and show a charitable side of her, but the movie primarily uses them to show her deteriorating mental state. Likewise, for a movie that features extensive arguments about "if it bleeds it leads" journalism, and one could argue that the movie insinuates that this is a contributing factor to Chubbuck's depression, the movie doesn't seem to have anything to say about it other than "it sells....and that sucks." It's an especially odd take for a film considering Chubbuck's final on air actions.

Engaging but heart-breaking Christine isn't for everyone, but is worth watching for Hall's performance alone. A conditional recommendation if you will.