Bella Baxter Is the Soul of Any World Worth Exploring

When I leave my house to go see a movie and the movie turns out to be good, there's a routine that follows, more or less, every time. As I unwillingly yet gracefully tip-toe my way back into reality, I get embraced by a particular substance resembling a judgment-free cloud, a reflection of myself with all the hidden parts suddenly exposed. Its role is to help me freely digest whatever it is I have just seen–help me carve out my reactions and takeaways into a minimalistic, coherent, valuable block of information that I’ll keep moving forward. After (finally!) seeing Poor Things, my cloud showed up on… steroids. It was glitchy, consisted of too many colors to count, and had too much to express in the small window of time we had together, while I, accordingly, had too many feelings to address verbally. The following are the juiciest bits from our extravagantly awesome and memorable dance. 

This spiteful tale – seemingly unrealistic in its aesthetics and shapes, yet highly realistic in its loins – needed to be told through Yorgos Lanthimos’s lens because of how much of a fearless storyteller he is and because of how bizarrely constructed his cinematic wand is. Even the wildest details of this movie feel intimate and rather logical because there’s enough air to observe them. Poor Things is a complex commentary on everything wrong with society: not all things need to be fixed or can ever be fixed, but it’s always better to be aware of nasty-smelling stuff than pretend they’re not there. The movie follows the chaotic journey of human growth and enlightenment through Bella Baxter’s freaky glance: her fight for autonomy, her tireless battle to preserve her self-worth, her boundless relationship with her graphically progressing sexuality, and, most of all, her falling in love with… life itself. If and when you see Poor Things, try resisting the urge to raise your eyebrows and let out the occasional uncomfortable cough. Try behaving like an adventurer – like Bella Baxter so lovingly is – instead.

Right in the middle of our dance, it was extremely difficult to interrupt my judgment-free cloud and at least attempt to construct an engaging monologue. So, I climbed up on my dear companion. In doing so, I stood tall and felt more confident right away. I began looking around this life of mine and found myself drowning amidst a sea of performative personalities. People breathing, thinking, feeling, and talking around me, but it's all borrowed from someplace strange, slightly adjusted, gray, and oddly tasting. No matter where in the world you are reading this from, societal trends all around you strongly encourage performative behavior: borrowing attitudes and decorations from fictional or living plastic figures. Bella Baxter shows us the beauty and struggle of digging up and nourishing one’s authenticity. Whatever room she's in and whatever challenge she's meant to tackle, her core always speaks up and pushes her forward with its glow and texture remaining intact.

When seeing Poor Things, if you find yourself recognizing a relationship pattern from your own life – romantic or not, current or past – as difficult and uncomfortable as it may be, try sitting with it for some time. When we’re younger, we give guys a chance because we want to feel seen and we want to play. As we grow and experience all the mushy and dark aspects of life—if we're lucky—we start figuring out what it is we’re actually seeking from a partner. It’s not about reaching a goal or checking something off of your to-do list. Romantic exploration is about taking risks while always keeping in mind your value and self-worth. There’s so much to learn from Bella’s raw and tragic encounters with men—there’s so much truth to swallow and keep. My favorite part of Poor Things was its nuanced, complicated, slightly uncomfortable ending. The unique straightforwardness of you get the guy, you live happily ever after is completely torn apart, destroyed. Domesticity is boring anyway. Bella Baxter’s ending is about taking back control and owning the extreme palette that defines any human experience. Ultimately, what Bella is truly enchanted by is life itself: the good, the bad, the ugly. She thrives on complexity, forgiveness, anticipation, disappointment, nuance. She believes in bettering the world using her own set of tools, no matter how rusty or rigid they might be.    

While sitting in the theater, half of the people around me kept checking the time every 20 minutes or so. The other half kept nervously touching the surface of their gadgets, almost as if to make sure there was some tangible normalcy around. They were all undeserving fools. Some kids had somehow snuck in. I often think about kids these days. I worry. Will they always be hyper and extreme in their thinking and doings? I was about to kick those children out of the theater, but then I stopped. What if they come out more prepared for battle than I ever was?

As I impatiently wait to get my hands on the book Poor Things is based on, I wonder how hard it is to trust the fact one piece of cake is enough. I dwell upon rich words open to even richer interpretations. Discovery. Dosage. Politeness. Control. Dancing. We are all destined to never truly unleash our being here, on earth, but isn’t that the whole point of this chapter anyway? Maybe we shouldn't fight it after all. There are moments when Poor Things feels too much. Moments that make you feel shaky and dare you to look away. But the costumes are extraordinary. Emma Stone justifies the fact Bella Baxter is the soul of any world worth exploring. Willem Dafoe's masterful performance generates sympathy for a madman. Mark Ruffalo's tactics remind you of all the narcissists you have had the pleasure of meeting in real life… in a funny, playful way. The dialogue is witty, amusing, excellent. The aura of these characters is exhausting in a good way.

At the end of yet another exciting encounter, my judgment-free cloud and I found ourselves politely seated on the sidelines. Perhaps the best part of this movie lies in its soothing presentation of every woman’s fight, her endurance, her capability of self-preservation, and her wish to explore and create (as opposed to the glowy narrative of Barbie, which now, compared to Poor Things, feels aggressive). My cloud sends it best and begs you, dear reader, to go see Poor Things if you already haven’t. I strongly recommend you do that as well.

SIDEBAR: Another collaboration between Yorgos and Emma will be unveiled later this year. Judging from the snippets I found in various podcast interviews, it is called Kinds of Kindness and sounds confusing and twisted. I can't wait to see it!