Any film starring the talented Kate Winslet, directed by a female cinematographer and profiling the plucky woman who shot many of last century’s most important photographs should be a must-see.
Unfortunately, this part-biopic of the American model-turned-war-photographer Lee Miller – who famously bathed in Hitler’s private bathtub as Berlin wasfalling – doesn’t do justice to its subject or star.
The story begins midway through Miller’s life, in late 1930s Europe. The former Vogue model is spending her summers in the South of France, lunching topless with luminaries from the art world such as Picasso and Man Ray. As her voiceover tells us: “I was good at drinking, having sex and taking pictures.” Miller falls passionately in love with British artist Roland Penrose (a handsome but miscast Alexander Skarsgård). Yet, as war unfolds across Europe, she feels impelled to travel into no-woman’s-land to record the horrors of history.
Period-predictable sexism ensues – the US Army forbids women from attending military briefings and tries to ignore her – but Miller inserts herself into dangerous situations anyway, capturing some of the era’s seminal images of conflict (many of which are recreated in the movie, displayed alongside the original during the film’s end credits).
Despite the devastating WWII setting and some horrific shots of Holocaust hell, Lee is let down by its bog-standard approach.
As Miller, Winslet is great – American-accented, blonde-dyed hair with lived-in but still lovely, cynical eyes. Clearly drawn to the strong female role, the Oscar winner collaborated with well-regarded camerawoman Ellen Kuras, who shot Winslet in 2004′s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Kuras has since turned feature director, and the pair reportedly toiled for the past eight years to get this portrait of the celebrated war lenswoman on to the silver screen.
But while Winslet works tirelessly, her supporting cast members range from hysterically over the top (Andrea Riseborough’s Vogue editor Audrey Withers) to an underused, simpering Marion Cotillard. Comedian Andy Samberg (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) delivers a fine dramatic performance as fellow photojournalist Davy Scherman, but is relegated to the sidelines of Miller’s arrogant self-importance.
Framed as a late-life conversation between Josh O’Connor’s meek interviewer and a wrinkled, chain-smoking Winslet, Miller’s life story is told in flashbacks. The pro-feminist message is blunt, and the technical film-making surprisingly basic, considering the director’s background. Even with Winslet’s considerable prowess, Lee is an unremarkable, unaffecting account.
