Pretty, Gritty, Wily, and Witty: A Damsel With Finesse

"You shouldn't wear such lovely outfits.  You make yourself a target."

"I don't change my style for anyone."  

So goes the exchange between Miss Meadows's neighbor and Miss Meadows in the Amazon original movie called -- what else? -- Miss Meadows.  The neighbor (Mary Kay Place) is concerned about Miss Meadows's (Katie Holmes) safety in their questionable neighborhood.  It's a pivotal scene, and it struck a chord with me, both in the context of the movie and in real life.  

Miss Meadows is an upbeat, beribboned substitute teacher who believes in good grammar and manners.  An unusual combination of sophisticated and childlike, she dresses like a doll and keeps an impeccable yard.  Instead of saying "good-bye" or "catch you later," she trills, "toot-a-loo."  She reads poetry while she walks down the street.  She takes her responsibility as an educator seriously, imparting to her students her passionate belief in treating others with kindness and respect.  Yet her love of fair play reaches much farther than her classroom door.  You see, Miss Meadows has a secret.  And that secret is that she's a vigilante.  (Vigilante, by the way, is one of my favorite words, both for the way it sounds and for what it means.  I like it so much that I used it in my last post to describe my lint trap.)  Intent on ridding the world of evil, Miss Meadows eliminates child molesters and murderers as if they're weeds in her garden.  The only person who knows about her alter ego is her mother, a prim woman (Jean Smart) who calmly advises her to rid her dresses of bloodstains with equal parts lemon juice and cold water.  Miss Meadows keeps to herself, so her secret seems safe.  That is, until she's stopped by the handsome town sheriff (James Badge Dale) while holding up traffic to rescue a frog.  The relationship that develops between them is offbeat, intense, and sweet, causing Miss Meadows's mask of mysteriousness to slowly melt.           

One of the reasons I like this movie is that it has a cute noir vibe not unlike the one in A Simple Favor.  It's playful yet subversive, like a bouncy castle in a cemetery.  Furthermore, it's thought-provoking, raising countless questions: Is Miss Meadows a vigilante because she wants everything to be clean?  Or, does she want everything to be clean to absolve herself from what she does when she's a vigilante?  Is she a hero?  Or is she a villain?  Is hers a case of two wrongs not making a right?  Or a case of breaking the rules to do the right thing?  Does Miss Meadows's secret threaten what she has with the sheriff?  Or, are her demons -- and his -- the thing that draws them together?  And last but certainly not least, can a thirtysomething woman pull off Mary Janes?  

To say that Miss Meadows is fresh is an understatement.  It celebrates femininity in all of its frills even as it challenges the stereotype that femininity equals weakness.  It's dark -- I watched it alone, in the wee hours of the night, and I won't deny that some parts gave me the willies -- but it has a vulnerability mixed in with its steel, much like the roses and thorns that coexist in Miss Meadows's garden.  Yet it's the steel that prevails.  As Miss Meadows says to that well-meaning but clueless neighbor, she's not willing to change her appearance -- or, more importantly, who she is -- for anyone (not even a pedophile who snarls, "No offense, Miss Meadows, but you do tend to over accessorize.").  And that's something that I, and I think many women, understand.

That said, here I am in my yard in my girly best despite the possible dangers. 

Until next time . . . toot-a-loo.