- Lee
- Directed by Ellen Kuras
- Written by Liz Hannah, John Collee and Marion Hume
- Starring Kate Winslet, Andy Samberg and Alexander Skarsgard
- Classification 14A; 116 minutes
- Opens in select theatres Sept. 27
At nearly every turn, the new biopic Lee swerves into the safest of choices. From its flat voiceover narration, staid flashback-based structure, and underutilized international cast, the feature directorial debut of noted cinematographer Ellen Kuras (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) is nothing if not consistent in its abundance of caution. Which is all the more disappointing given the boundary-breaking spirit of its subject, the American war photojournalist Lee Miller, whose work on the frontlines of the Second World War delivered some of the most essential, and horrifying, images of the Holocaust.
As played by Kate Winslet, Miller is a fiercely independent rogue, not willing to let anyone – neither editor nor lover – tell her where to go or what to do. But Kuras’s film, especially the paint-by-numbers script credited to a trio of writers, seems to oddly object to such a strong spirit, boxing the character into the most formulaic of narratives.
Miller’s story unfolds as a testy interview between the retired hero – Winslet sports some truly unconvincing old-age makeup – and an inquisitive young man (Josh O’Connor) whom we presume to be a journalist, but ends up being part of an eye-rolling last-minute twist. Kuras traces Miller’s background from being a carefree model, living it up in a bohemian lifestyle among such supporting players as Marion Cotillard and Alexander Skarsgard – each barely having time to make much of an impression – to picking up a camera and documenting the unvarnished truth of history for Vogue.
Along the way, Miller makes close friends with photojournalist David Scherman, played by comedy star Andy Samberg in what ends up becoming the film’s best and worst decision. In the film’s quieter moments, Samberg reveals himself to be a stealth scene-stealer of serious-minded drama, matching the always impressive Winslet beat for beat, while lacing in a slight accent of self-deprecating humour. Yet there is something also inherently goofy and unintentionally disorienting about watching the Saturday Night Live veteran wander around the charred grounds of Buchenwald.
Winslet, who has been the driving force behind the production for years, shepherding the film through various iterations and cast members, deserves credit for finally getting Miller’s story out into the wider world. But Lee is more of a film that is good for you, rather than a good film in and of itself.