Upon first watching the Joy trailer, I’ll admit I didn’t rush to see it, but I’m going to tell you why I was wrong.
The trailer’s move from a calm, slow-paced focus on childhood dreams into a fast-paced, thundering presentation of the everyday challenges of adulthood summed up the feel of the movie pretty well, though when I first saw the trailer I had no clue what to expect.
Jennifer Lawrence invents a … hoover? Maybe?
‘David-O-Russell-really-likes-Lawrence- Cooper-and-De-Niro’ the trilogy?
I finally went to see Joy a week after it was released at 9pm and was certain I’d fall asleep, but I was wrong to worry. From the moment the film started, I was invested in Joy’s character, wanting her to suceed more than anything.
Released on New Year’s Day, Joy came at a time when we were setting resolutions, starting a new term, returning back to work. This article by What Culture sums the timeliness of the film pretty well, saying that at times Joy was ‘almost physically aggravating’. The review itself isn’t overly positive, but this strong reaction was exactly what made the film great for me. The frustration at Joy’s failures, the inconveniences set upon her by her family and friends, the rapidly building list of every day responsibilities getting in the way of her individual ambitions – maybe I’m just speaking as a young adult who is also trying to find a way to balance ‘real life’ and ambition, but I think it was pretty relatable, even if the actual story wasn’t necessarily realistic in its entirety.
Furthermore, Russell actually based his character on Joy Mangano – an entrepreneur and inventor, and definitely a daring woman.
Like Russell’s character Joy, Mangano got started on her track by inventing a fluorescent pet collar, skipped education to help her family, divorced her first husband – with whom she had two children – but still remained close friends with him, launched the Miracle Mop from her father’s garage in 1989, sold 18,000 mops after her own appearance on QVC, was helped by her best friend and eventually sold her company (Ingenious Designs) to the Home Shopping Network. The story arc presented in Joy is a sturdy one, because it’s mostly true.
The Verge critiques the style of the film, saying that Russell didn’t really know ‘which type of film he wanted to make’:
‘There are hints of several different films mashed together in Russell’s script. One is a Spanking The Monkey-style family drama about endurance and the many forms of abuse. Another is a sort of jazzy, playful heist à la American Hustle, about an outsider taking an unsuspecting industry by storm. A third is a Fighter-style success narrative about an up-and-comer learning to differentiate her victories from her family’s victories. And a fourth is a comedy in the vein of Flirting With Disaster, that embraces a kind of satire Russell only hints at here. There’s just never any sense that Russell ever decided which, if any, film he wanted to make’
This review also argues that Joy lacks depth and emotion, and doesn’t unpack Joy’s reactions to both her failures and fame enough to give a satisfying development arc for her character:
Joy never thinks to question what Joy gets out of her relationships with them [her family]. This is the territory where Russell usually excels — digging into why people stay in painful relationships, and what happens when those relationships hit a breaking point. Joy isn’t human enough to have a breaking point. She becomes a rich and successful company owner, but without ever questioning other people’s right to smash her possessions, use her as a servant, or belittle her and blame their choices on her.
I actually thought that this film felt more complete than other recent films – it had no feelings of leaving room for sequels through an open-ended conclusion, and combined elements of Russell’s specialities to focus on one character. The fact that this film didn’t box itself into one genre was not a weakness, it was a strength – it resembled all the confusion, emotion, stress and unpredictability in a single day in modern life, and expressed itself very clearly: life can be a bitch, but sometimes you’ve got to take a chance at kicking back.
Joy showed a woman moving from being in a place of joylessness, oppression and anxiety about where life was leading her, to taking the handles and making people see that she wouldn’t be taking a back seat in her life anymore.
Her mother, her father and her father’s new partner all resemble aspects of her past that Joy wants to distance herself from. Her children – specifically her daughter – mirrors her own fears as a child; exposed to domestic aggression and only being encouraged by Mimi, who’s encouragements are frequently disregarded as nonsense throughout the film. Joy moves from hopelessness to confidence, and you can see this confidence build throughout the film as she gradually claims responsibility for her own ideas and labours, and rejects responsibility for the mistakes of others.
The growth of technology and its impact on the domestic space was another interesting aspect to the film. As a platform for Joy’s product, QVC features as a model of modern-day business: profit as the focus, rapid transactions, fast-paced interactions with the public to sell as much as possible, and a newly mechanised and televised way of living that disorients a newcomer to the world of corporate business.
In the trailer, a scene is shown in which Bradley Cooper’s character (Neil, leader of a QVC studio) represents these ideas perfectly: turning his arm in the air like a wheel in motion, signalling ‘Keep it going!’ to the women currently selling products on air for The Home Shopping Network. Incorporated into the numerical machinery of QVC’s way of doing business and generating sales, Cooper’s character’s demands for ‘more’ are shown in a new light when Joy’s character steps onto his platform and inverts QVCs model by demanding to represent ‘ordinary’ people.
Though she starts of shaky, Neil sees Joy as the future of business, with her ability to take pride in her own product and make everybody telling her no – be it corporations, businessowners, members of the public or police officers – listen to her and invest in her idea.
As a representation of the frustrated voice of women, entrepreneurs and small businesses, Joy may be a little out-of-the-ordinary in her personal experiences, but overall, the issue of corporate greed and the need for independent sellers to be taken seriously is a great message for the film to have, and can be more widely applied to other forms of unequal representation. The end of the film sees Lawrence’s character investing in people like herself, saying ‘I know how it feels to sit in that chair’ – to be under scrutiny for the work that took a lifetime to have the courage to produce. It is this ethic that Russell’s film eloquently portrays: the need for faith in yourself, faith in creating, faith in the ability to be bold in a world that tells you to be the underdog.
It is this focus and the brilliant acting throughout which brings Russell’s film into well-deserved Oscar territory. Humour is embedded throughout, and mixed with layers of emotions that reverbrate through everyday life and brings a much-needed realisation admist the trials of a New Year: you don’t always only get one shot.
The only major setback of the film was its narration. The voice of ‘Mimi’ – Joy’s grandmother – came across as completely unnecessary, and it really could have been worked into the film better. The continuing breaks in the story fractured its pace at points when I feel that Joy’s own narration would have been more poignant.
However, overall, Joy is well worth watching. This film had a well-timed release date, held itself together pretty well and was easy to watch. It had a few setbacks, but I’d definitely urge you not to listen to harsh reviews – especially if you liked David O. Russell’s other films. A simple, get stressed then feel good film, Russell rounds up his ‘trilogy’ of Lawrence-Cooper-De Niro nicely, giving insight into a variety of difference issues, mindsets and solutions to every day problems with one hell of a daring woman.