[yasr_overall_rating]
TV series based on Steven Soderbergh’s “The Girlfriend Experience,” which centers on the life of a New York call girl.
Steven Soderbergh’s “The Girlfriend Experience,” similarly to most of his films, was technically-sound, not without its artistic merit – but also detached, cold and, like its protagonist, hard to read and ultimately vacant. So it’s fitting that the co-creator of the STARZ spin-off, Lodge Kerrigan, decided to expand upon the film’s themes and infuse the show, and its central character, with some much-need dimension and context (if not necessarily warmth). Kerrigan directed the heartrending “Keane,” after all (if you haven’t seen that film yet, order it now), and he utilizes his knack for subtle characterization and empathy here to great advantage. His “partner-in-crime,” Amy Seimetz (who shows up in a few episodes as sensible sister Annabel), starred in the mind-bending, experimental “Upstream Color,” directed by Shane Carruth, who composes the ethereal score to “The Girlfriend Experience,” echoing its otherworldly vibes.
My feeling is that the show’s blend of incisiveness/poignancy and coolness/artfulness is the result of the meeting of those disparate yet symbiotic minds. It doesn’t always work – there are moments when the series’ self-awareness becomes a little grating – but “TGE” is certainly more (pick one) intriguing/captivating/ absorbing than Soderbergh’s big-screen effort, a rare case where a celluloid TV interpretation one-ups its cinematic source material. It’s a genuinely one-of-a-kind, cerebral experience, which renders it one of the best shows of 2016 so far.
Christine, played by Riley Keogh (Elvis’ granddaughter!) gets seduced by her friend Avery (Kate Lyn Shell) into the dark shadows of the Chicago underworld, following her on a “date,” the titular experience. A focused and cynical law intern by day, Christine, instantly seduced, becomes a sultry Chelsea by night, at first just “listening and asking” over dinner with a client. Curiosity killed the cat, yet this feline doesn’t seem aware of the phrase, as she consequently delves into repeated coitus with a number of men (and women). When Christine/Chelsea threatens to branch out, her pimp Jacqueline (Alexandra Costillo) threatens right back by placing an envelope with Christine/Chelsea’s nude photos on her work desk. Let the power-(p)lay/blackmail games begin!
The allure of sexual pleasure and the feeling of empowerment it give her leads Christine/Chelsea to sleep with Avery and then her own married boss, lawyer David Tellis (Paul Sparks), which in turns stirs up sociopathic behavior on her behalf that steadily spreads, akin to an STD. Spurred by her newfound rebellious lifestyle, a psychotic stalker, and the recent threats from Jacqueline, Christine/Chelsea gathers the balls (ha!) to blackmail David. Eventually she’s fired in a mesmerizing sequence of events, and escapes to see more – progressively shadier – clients in Toronto. In the meantime, her identity goes public, an explicit, NSFW video appearing on the cover of all Chicago newspapers and blogs. Ultimately, Christine/Chelsea may have to decide which one she really is.
For all the seemingly scandalous drama (in a sub-plot that initially seems random but eventually gets intertwined with Christine/Chelsea’s plight – and the show’s prevalent themes – David and his partner, Erin (Mary Lynn Rajskub), fight over a case), the filmmakers adopted a muted, chilly approach to the proceedings. Things unfold without any eccentricity of flare for the overly dramatic. This isn’t “The O.C.”… Or look at it as “The O.C.” re-imagined by Lars von Trier.
Christine/Chelsea becomes a therapist for these men, most of them needy and desperate, lonely and ashamed, others arrogant and vulgar and sadistic. One touching moment comes when a desolate client professes his love to her, but has to take out loans in order to keep seeing her – an uncomfortable but powerful sequence. In another memorable bit (of which there are many), a disheveled wife pays off/threatens Christine/Chelsea never to see her husband again. The stalker scenes are extraordinary for avoiding the pratfalls of your standard slasher thriller antics – the suspense comes unexpectedly and escalates swiftly, to plateau and dissipate just as effectively.
In another exemplary prologue to a chapter, a client seems to have died and then (literally) resurfaces – a sustained, highly intense moment that culminates with respite… just to have that same man die a few moments later in the episode. I have seen my share of TV and films, but this was truly something new – the rug was pulled out from under my feet, making me contemplate not only life’s fragility, but the staple narrative structures we all adhere to, both in cinema and life.
Among other moments that stuck with me were Christine’s (faked?) panic attack and the call she has with her concerned parents, as she’s escaping a rapidly escalating, brutal reality. But “TGF” is more than the sum of its lovely parts. It’s an acute commentary on the de-romanticized, sanitized state of current relationships and the corresponding paradigm shift in our collective consciousness. It examines sex as the ultimate power play. It’s a thriller, a procedural, an artistic experiment, an incisive psychological study, a meditation on alienation and identity. Its seemingly unresolved storylines, ambiguousness in terms of morality and characterization (what drives Christine/Chelsea? does she ever watch TV or snack on ice-cream?), and the general blurriness, for lack of a better word, all aids the show’s transcendental feel. Riley Keogh is perfect in the role. “You have the smartest eyes,” a client tells her, and she really does – a juxtaposition with her steely demeanor and the mystery behind her actions.
For a series that mostly takes place inside bedrooms, buildings and offices, “TGF” represents Chicago’s winterly chill surprisingly well, portraying those moments when you’re confined to your apartment or office, and the blizzard outside makes your imagination – and fantasies – run wild. With unusual angles and a rhythm of its own, Kerrigan and Seimetz’s creation defies every expectation in the book. Leaping forward through time, it doesn’t follow conventional trajectory, which to some may be off-putting, but I found the approach wholly original, one of the reasons behind “TGF”’s greatness. It’s as titillating and appalling as its heroine’s lifestyle, similarly pulling us in, almost unwillingly, into its unethical but sexy world. Despite moments of pretentiousness and some off-putting scenes here and there, this is an experience well-worth immersing yourself into, whether you have a girlfriend or not.
Available now on Blu-ray & DVD
