Brett Ratner‘s Melania (Amazon MGM, 2.2.24) is about as empty and unrevealing and bland as a well-polished, kiss-ass documentary could possibly be.
It’s a cover-up thing — pure gloss and lacquer, no vulnerability or emotional honesty except for two moments…no sharing, no letting down the proverbial hair…gleaming surfaces, cliche-ridden narration, stiletto heels and fake eyelashes that never come off.
And I’m sorry but it is a little bit like Jonathan Glazer‘s The Zone of Interest (A24, 2.2.24).
Glazer’s WWII film conveys the denial mindset of Auschwitz commandant Rudolf Höss, his wife Hedwig and their kids…sitting pretty in a spacious home next to the camp, separated by a 12-foot wall…a sizable kitchen, a horse stable, a nice garden, a nearby lake…a privileged, well–ordered life while Hoss manages the industrial–scale murder of hundreds of thousands.
Melania is also about denial and insulation. (Hell, I felt detached myself.) It’s basically a shallow and surface-y infomercial about a brief chapter in the life of Melania Trump — her last 20 days of being a semi-private citizen before the inauguration of Donald Trump as U.S. President on 1.20.25.
Separated from the real world by a thick membrane of limitless wealth, security guys in black suits, an abundant wardrobe, fawning assistants, tank-sized SUVs…you get the idea.
Buy your ticket and watch the extremely well-tended, exquisitely dressed Melania living a life of flush banality…maximum privelege and insulation while hubby makes plans for the persecution of wokeys, the rousting of illegal immigrants, the restoration of male-female simplicity, the implementation of authoritarian rule, the punishing of his political enemies by hook or crook, the weakening of the U.S. economy through tariffs and the general undermining of democracy.
Melania touches bottom when she recalls the death of her mom (Amalija Knavs) during an evening visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It also briefly connects when she sings along to Michael Jackson‘s “Billie Jean”. But that’s all there is.
At the very end, an exhausted Melania finally takes her stiletto heels off. Vulnerability at last!