“Monica” (2023) is about the titular woman (Trace Lysette), who receives a call from a stranger, Laura (Emily Browning). Monica then hits the road to return to her childhood home because her mother (Patricia Clarkson), Eugenia, is dying. Her family does not recognize Monica because she is a transwoman.
Lysettte, director and cowriter Andrea Pallaoro, cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi, costume designer Patrik Milani, set decorator Daniel Adan Baker, production designer Andrew Clark worked in tandem to establish a consistent color palette for the character, her wardrobe, her apartment, and environment throughout: blue and hues of orange, a counterintuitive combination. Lysette’s tanned skin and blue tattoos, the teal hue of the hotel bathroom and her towel with orange tiles, her home’s teal and orange beaded curtain. It echoes her mom’s home’s color scheme, which sticks closer to more traditional shades of red and blue, primary colors, less complex. Monica’s emblematic colors are more mixed and complicated, but once she arrives at home, she wears blue with the top of her convertible finally up. She is doing her best to conform. Red appears when she is in danger—at a bar and when she sees a coyote. We see green in the middle when Monica is in situations that are not ideal for her safety.
The first part of “Monica” rarely shows any character fully. We see parts or objects hide parts of them. Parts of people get reflected in mirrors. In one scene, Monica is present off screen, but not even in the frame. As the film progresses, Monica’s position is centralized as she returns from being marginalized in society.
The most realistic part of “Monica” was Eugenia refusing to take pills, refusing treatment, not wanting additional help then waking up in the middle of the night screaming for help—parentifying Monica, who then must soothe the woman who exiled her. It is a poignant scene, but the horrible part of me thought, “Yeah, more than you did for Monica. That is what you get. Tormented in your dreams! In the dark!” All these interactions pour salt into Monica’s wound because she is treated like a stranger. When Monica considers leaving, a family member is horrified and oblivious to their entitlement as if she has an obligation to share the family’s pain. Monica is not running away from mom caring duties. She owes them nothing. I am so weary of films showing the persecuted one being the bigger person.
If I had any issue with “Monica,” it was because of the story. Monica’s family home implies that her family was at least upper middle class, which makes Monica’s financial situation crueler. The dying mother’s appearance is immaculate even before the inevitable makeover sequence. She looks better than most people who are not sick. Early in the film, a character explicitly states that Paul, Monica’s brother, is having marital problems. Why? No idea. They appear to be the perfect family. Other than gawking, there is no explanation why Paul did not look for his sibling since by everyone’s accounts, they were close when they were children. Yes, it is possible that people may move away from bias, especially temporarily when sickness and death are involved, but time is not an apology. These biases do not evaporate. They emerge in little ways even if someone wants to suppress them. Look into the Justification-Suppression Model.
The second half of the film feels like a fantasy. I want Monica to have a happy ending, but just fitting into her family’s life is not sustainable. In an early scene, she takes a photo for a family at a gas station, and by the end, people are taking photos of her so she is no longer relegated to living in the margins of life, but it is an act. While “Monica” implies that her mother may remember her child on some level, Eugenia also never acknowledges it. While not discussing the past may be freeing, it is also ignoring Monica’s journey, the family’s sins against her and treating someone like family is not the same as being family. Her family does not have to reckon with Monica’s entire life so they just slide into treating her like another cis woman who exists to pay the woman tax and care for the family. When she is playing with her brother’s children, tending her sick mother, giving makeovers, being a supportive sister figure, everyone loves her, but if they learn about her breakups, her work, her hookups, will she still be a part of that family photo if they must handle the whole person? Her family is entitled to expect her to drop everything and meet them where they are when they need her. Will they do the same for her?
Monica plays into their expectations because she would like to feel loved regardless of the quality of that love since the first half of “Monica.” The film depicts her as alone, reaching out to men to meet her emotional needs with mixed results or dodging their advances just so she can have some peace. Having a physical connection with her mother is healing enough even without the verbal acknowledgment, which is presented through action by her mother accepting physical contact from Monica that would be inappropriate from a stranger: cuddling and sleeping next to each other. The acting and cinematography makes me want to suspend disbelief and believe that it is sufficient, and there will never be problems again. I can believe in superheroes, but I cannot believe that hate ever evaporates once it appears and dissolves alleged family bonds, especially in this period.
The family’s relationship with Leticia (Adriana Barraza), the full-time caretaker for Eugenia is similarly unquestioning. The film depicts her like family, but without recognizing the inherent tension in Leticia’s work: every moment caring for Eugenia is time that she cannot spend taking care of her family, which is why Monica is needed. It never occurs to the family to consider making Leticia’s life easier other than not to bother her on her days off. Leticia shares a sliver of her story and expresses appreciation for what Eugenia has done for her. What? I do not believe it. Once Leticia referenced a bus in her story, Eugenia did not help her.
The cast sells the story in a way that the writing does not. They really act as if the acknowledgment and apology happened, especially with the implication that Brody, one of Eugenia’s grandchildren, is like Monica. The unspoken promise is that this family will not make the same mistake twice. Good for Brody, but what about Monica.
Even emotionally immature people try to buy favor. Does Leticia have a car? What happens to Monica’s apartment and belongings while she cares for her mother. People do not die before the end of the month so people can just resume their lives without financial hiccups. If Monica tries to extricate herself, will they sulk and become hostile at the loss of free labor, continue their relationship, or resume their lives thinking about her yet expecting Monica to be telepathic and know that they care?
