From Russia with Lust
If you have a crush on Nicole Kidman, you might think
Birthday Girl sounds like your kind of party. Kidman
plays Nadia, a Russian woman purchased over the Internet by
John Buckingham (Ben Chaplin), a British schmo with a
boring bank job and a penchant for porn who is looking for
a fiancée.
But, what might sound like ultimate wish fulfillment (for
John and any Kidman fan) turns into John's nightmare with
the arrival of Yuri (Vincent Cassel) and Alexei (Mathieu
Kassovitz), who pose as Nadia's cousins. Yuri and Alexei
immediately fit one stereotype of Eastern European men: the
earthy, vodka-swilling troubadour. Soon, however, they
change into a second stereotype, the ultraviolent criminal,
preying on rich Westerners. In order to save his own life
and Nadia's, John must rob the bank branch where he has
worked for 10 years.
There are hints that things will go wrong before this
moment. John is at first leery of Nadia because she does
not speak English as promised, and they share uncomfortable
silences and longing glances. Birthday Girl works
best during its first half, when it is a slightly perverse
romantic comedy, in the vein of Pretty Woman, that
is, a glowingly sweet, and completely un-self-reflective,
portrayal of love for money. And Nadia knows her assets: in
order to prevent John from sending her home on the next
Aeroflot flight, she seduces him. After a couple of awkward
sexual encounters, they develop a familiarity that, from
John's perspective, seems to be heading towards love.
In order to facilitate other types of communication, John
gives Nadia an English-Russian dictionary. But she's been
snooping around his house, and in return, presents him with
his own copies of a magazine called Hog Tied Bitches
that she found in his closet. John is hooked when Nadia
indulges his fantasies, and thus begins a bondage trope
that runs throughout the film. Each is alternately tied up
or dominant (in a series of increasingly bizarre
situations), illustrating their shifting power dynamic,
sexual and otherwise.
The film is conflicted in relation to Nadia's sexuality. On
one hand, her sensuality contrasts positively with the
uptight, mundane life that John is living. Yet, Nadia is
also punished for this exuberant sexuality. She develops
from blank slate (and largely mute) sex object to sassy
femme fatale. This is marginally fun to watch, until
the film turns to Nadia's relationship with Alexei, who
abuses her repeatedly. The film is so casual about the
violence against Nadia that even demure John finds he can
slap her around. She's marked with numerous bruises,
including those on her wrists from John's sex games, most
all presented as sleazy. This approach to violence against
women reminds me of True Romance; the brutality in
Birthday Girl is superfluous and, like the
characters' tendency to find themselves bound and gagged,
sordidly sexual.
In contrast to Nadia, John remains pretty much the same
throughout the film, appearing weak and confused even as he
takes action. John's inability to let go of his inhibitions
is made visible in his voyeurism at the beginning of the
film: his Internet peeping, stash of porn, and the camera's
clever tendency to view him though or peering out of
windows, such as the one he sits behind as a bank teller.
Even at the end of the film, after John's supposed
awakening, we still see him from behind a wall of glass,
literally and figuratively. He is repeatedly peering in
through windows in hotels and airports in his attempt to
retrieve Nadia and his money.
As it considers the secret desires that lurk under yuppie
respectability, Birthday Girl is a mildly enjoyable film, offering some giggles and even a few shocking revelations. But if you want to see a film that is both
seductive and intelligent, go rent Something Wild,
and let this one, which has been sitting on studio shelves
for three years, be quickly and quietly swept under rug so
as not to tarnish the current shine on Kidman's career.