Erin Maxwell
As Lee Miller is introduced to future husband Roland Penrose (Alexander Skarsgård) at an idiosyncratic picnic of free spirits, viewers are given an abridged synopsis of the life of the model-turned-artist. Brazen, brassy and a tad belligerent, the former glamor girl who was once known for her racy photos impresses the gallery owner with her current output of behind-the-camera work. As she sits topless among her bohemian consorts, moviegoers are given a strong impression of Miller as an American living in France on the cusp of World War II just as she is about to begin her second act in life.
For most, Lee Miller is probably best known for her work as a model with artist and confidante Man Ray, which earned her the epithet of “Surrealist Muse,” or for stripping naked in Hitler’s bathtub in a photo taken by Life magazine’s David E. Scherman (portrayed in the biopic by Andy Samberg). But Miller’s contributions to history reach far deeper than her mere image. In Ellen Kuras’s biopic Lee, the forgotten legacy of Ms. Miller is now cemented into the cultural zeitgeist, thanks to a first-rate performance from Kate Winslet.
Based on Antony Penrose’s book The Lives of Lee Miller, Lee follows Miller in her midlife, long after her career as a model has reached its sunset. Self-described as “good at drinking, sex and taking pictures,” Miller has settled into a vagabond lifestyle as a photographer of some note, which comes to an abrupt half due to the rise of Adolf Hitler, placing Miller at the right place in the right time to become one of the most significant chroniclers of World War II. Capturing images of worn and weary nurses, the horrors of Dachau, and disfigured soldiers, Miller brought the brutality home in black and white.
(Kimberley French/Sky Cinema)
As a film, Lee is a throwback to the films of yesteryear when biopics focused on celebrating a person’s life with little or no personal conflict to hamper good storytelling — think Yankee Doodle Dandy or The Glenn Miller Story. Lee lauds Miller’s life with no real stakes other than the occasional Nazi invasion or the odd era-appropriate misogynist who scoffs at women in the workplace/battlefield. The film is without any true antagonist or adversity to speak of. Instead, Lee isn’t a remembrance of an event that Miller had to defeat or any internal strife she had to overcome, but rather, stands as a monument to a person. But to be sure, that person deserves a monument.
Winslet is well cast as the fearless Miller as she captures the Poughkeepsie native’s moxie and fortitude, but the pic never allows her to become fully realized, choosing to embrace her flaws rather than mend them. As Miller states at the beginning of the film, she’s never wrong, and the film stands by that assertion, holding her in the highest regard. Even in times when she is impetuous and rash in her decisions, others apologize to her, surrendering to her audaciousness. However, Winslet’s portrayal of the intrepid photojournalist who traversed war-torn Europe with Scherman is nothing less than outstanding and gives the biopic the legs in which it stands. Winslet channels Miller’s charisma while conjuring both the chutzpah and indestructible verve that propels the photojournalist in her passions.
Lee is a well-crafted, visually-striking biopic that is moving in its depiction of the atrocities of World War II and near worship in its characterization of Lee Miller, who without a doubt deserves to be recognized for her achievements. And though the film has its fair share of well-worn tropes and treats its subject with the reverence of a demigod, the extraordinary true story shines thanks to Winslet’s performance, a turn that will certainly not allow Lee Miller to ever be swept under the carpet of history again.