The Canadian Cinephile’s Reviews

2002’s Secretary is an entertaining black comedy that displays an unconventional relationship with candour, splendour, and incongruity all at once. It is a quirky film and I didn’t find it quite as dark as some others, but the overall experience provided by director Steven Shainberg was quite enjoyable. Shainberg’s picture walks a fine line, taking concepts of sadomasochism and treating them with a rather light, airy brush. The strength of the film lies in its characters and how they come to rely on one another, at first with trepidation and eventually with reckless abandon.

Secretary stars Maggie Gyllenhaal as Lee Halloway, the emotionally sensitive and shy daughter in a family of domineering and dysfunctional personalities. Her character is quickly established through a few quick scenes which cautiously demonstrate her coping mechanisms. We learn that Lee has just returned from a psychiatric hospital where she was placed for cutting herself purposefully. As Lee returns home, we learn that Lee’s family has little idea as to how to treat the young woman and instead simply forces her into the norm. Lee takes a course on typing, eager to enter into “normal society,” and begins the search for a job.

James Spader is tightly wound attorney Edward Grey. Grey hires Lee instantly during a very odd interview sequence. Grey takes to Lee instantly, but begins to tinker with a domineering personality to push her limitations. He notices that she cuts herself, so he tells her to stop immediately and invokes his own control in her life. This relationship ascends (or descends, depending on your outlook) into the territory of BDSM as both characters awaken to the freedom that their newfound relationship brings. Lee and Grey deal with their feelings different. Lee becomes more smitten with Grey, whereas Grey is unsure as to how to deal with his emotional attachment to Lee and to the world of BDSM. The remainder of the film deals with this dilemma as we watch the characters develop with frankness and sincerity.

Where Secretary succeeds is in making its characters real and not merely objects of fun or dismay. We understand why Lee cuts herself to feel alive and to feel included in something larger than herself, even though we might disagree with her methodology. Lee is very much a “good person.” She appears to have solid values, she’s a nice young woman, and she is kind. Lee is so kind that she is submissive, crawling around in a dumpster looking for a discarded piece of work. She becomes so submissive that she begins to manipulate the relationship with Grey in order to get more dominance from him, intentionally making errors to receive a scolding or a spanking. Lee’s desires are clear, whereas Grey’s are often clouded by his obsessive personality.

The relationship functions because Lee gets to feel a sense of belonging and a sense of function. Grey “needs” her in some fashion, so she springs up when called to his office and does whatever is asked of her. Grey notices her, plays games with her, and thinks about her. He even tells her what to eat, going so far as to tell her to consume a mere “four peas” during a comical segment involving a family meal. Grey is clinging to some sort of sanity, however, but we see that he is losing control of his life. His clients begin to notice, his practice suffers as a result, and he creates “busy work” out of arranging things and tinkering with plants and flowers.

Secretary is a film about healing and deliverance. The characters find what they need in one another and they can’t get it anywhere else. They do what works for them. Lee and Edward Grey have a good thing going and Shainberg’s film celebrates that. It is a truly tender film, one that may seem disconcerting because of the subject matter, but one that very hurriedly sheds light on the true nature of the characters by lightly playing at the nature of BDSM. There are no broad strokes here, but instead everything is rather understated and contained by the casings of these characters. Their fractured souls are within and we begin to gain understanding as to why these people do what they do and why it makes them feel so good.

The performances are brilliant, with Gyllenhaal doing an outstanding job and coming across as amiable as ever. She is incandescent in many scenes, seeming almost too innocent for the subject matter. That virtuousness, however, is what makes Secretary all the more effectual and concise. Spader is the perfect counterpart, sweating through his performance with an infatuated attention to detail. He is a fine actor and Secretary may well be his best film performance. The chemistry between Spader and Gyllenhaal is marvellous, too, as both performers know how to communicate a lot with very little.

Secretary is an audacious film, but it is not an odious one. It is eccentric, but not creepy. It is kind-hearted, but not sappy. Shainberg’s film creates an embroidery of character and aroma, leaving the audience the responsibility of falling in love with these characters or wholly rejecting them out of strained ignorance. Many will champion the characters for what they do, but I’d rather champion these characters for who they are and what they discover. Secretary is not about BDSM; it’s about people needing each other.

8/10