Even years later, May December remains a film embedded in my mind. The film follows Elizabeth, an actress played by Natalie Portman, who is preparing to portray Gracie (Julianne Moore), a woman infamous for grooming a 13-year-old boy, Joe Yoo (Charles Melton). Decades after the scandal and three children later, Elizabeth immerses herself in Gracie’s life to really understand her — blurring the line between observation and imitation.
As Elizabeth studies Gracie, she becomes both disturbed and fascinated. Gracie presents herself as composed, but beneath the surface, she is deeply manipulative and passive-aggressive to her family. She isolates Joe from the outside world, shaping his reality so completely that he believes his life was a choice. He never experienced a normal adolescence, no college, no independence, no connection to family or friends. All she has is him, and all he has is her.
Joe’s evolution is one of the most powerful aspects of the film. At first, he appears content, even convinced that his relationship with Gracie was consensual. But Elizabeth’s presence disrupts that narrative. Slowly, he begins to question everything. His vulnerability surfaces as he reads old headlines, breaks down in front of his children, and finally asks Gracie if he was too young.
Her response, insisting that he “knew what he was doing” and repeatedly asking him who was in charge, is shocking. It reflects something we see play out too often and highlights the psychological control she still holds over him. But while Gracie spirals into panic, Joe experiences clarity for the first time. The final scene, where Joe watches his child graduate from behind a gate, made me emotional. He is crying, finally letting himself confront the reality of a life he never got the chance to live. It’s a quiet but devastating realization of everything he lost.
At the same time, Elizabeth undergoes her own transformation. Her dedication to the role becomes unsettling, raising questions about the ethics of storytelling. The lines between these two people blur as she self-fornicates in the aquarium they were caught in 20 years ago, and she uses Joe for sexual relations for ulterior motives. Does she truly care about the real people involved, or is she simply exploiting their pain? The film subtly digs at how true-crime media nowadays often prioritizes performance over empathy. What makes May December so disturbing is not just what happened to Joe, but how the rest of his life would be haunted by what happened to him. Even as he begins to see the truth, the damage is already done. The film doesn’t offer closure or justice to him, only the unsettling reminder that some people never will take accountability and will move forward with life, while you are burdened by something that was done to you.