What is a Ya-Ya? As with jazz and Taoism, if
you have to ask, you may never know. It’s got something to do
with enduring friendship, of course, and shared secrets, and lots
and lots of gabbing. And it helps if you are Southern, Catholic,
and at least a little bit crazy. On the other hand, if you just
love the Southern-fried novels of Rebecca Wells, then you may
well consider yourself a
My wife is not strictly a Ya-Ya, but she belongs to an email
group for Catholic homeschooling mothers, one of whom fits the
term perfectly and has long since declared my wife and the other
mothers in the group "honorary
Despite being more of the "Yo" than "Ya" persuasion, I think I’m pretty receptive toward what are commonly called "chick flicks." After all, my wife and I enjoy the same "guy movies"; why shouldn’t we enjoy the same romances and other female-targeted films?
Still, I came to Divine Secrets of the
More importantly, none of the Ya-Yas has an abusive husband,
or is almost raped, or finds it necessary to shoot anybody or
blow anything up in response to male oppression. In fact, the
film has a great deal of affection for its two main male
characters, played by James Garner and Angus MacFadyen. Divine
Secrets of the
In the end, if Divine Secrets of the
Sandra Bullock plays Sidda, a successful New York playwright with a hunky, loving fiancé (MacFadyen) to whom she can’t quite seem to commit. Then comes a disastrous interview in Time magazine that paints a much less flattering — but possibly more accurate — portrait of Sidda’s Louisiana upbringing than she intended. Sidda’s histrionic mother Vivi (Ellen Burstyn) is predictably outraged, and what follows is the mother of all mother-daughter feuds.
Very quickly, the conflict is no longer just about Vivi’s
over-the-top rage in the present, but about her failings as a
mother in the past, which Sidda can never forgive or forget.
That’s when the
At least, that’s how it runs in theory. In practice, the supposed revelations about Vivi’s past aren’t particularly surprising, and certainly shouldn’t be to Sidda. Nor do they entirely mitigate Vivi’s erratic lapses as a parent. In fact, some of Vivi’s issues make her character more alienating, not less. Are we really supposed to feel sorry for her because marriage and motherhood deprived her of her youthful longings for a more glamorous lifestyle? And, while I understand the immediate causes of Vivi’s darkest moment as a parent, what’s with her inability to respond appropriately to the needs of her kids when they come down with G.I. bugs?
But the secrets of Vivi’s past are really just a device in a story that’s essentially about memory and forgiveness. Khouri and her production designers take us back and forth between the past and the present, showing us Vivi’s childhood, her life as a young woman, and of course her old age in the present.
Don’t try to make sense of the timeline, which has Vivi as a child (played by 13-year-old Caitlin Wachs) attending the 1939 Atlanta premiere of Gone With the Wind, but finds her all grown up and played by Ashley Judd by the time the United States enters World War II a couple of years later. (It gets worse: Sidda is born in the early 1950s, but is played in the present by Sandra Bullock!)
Instead, enjoy the composite picture created by the powerful and convincingly dovetailed performances of Burstyn and Judd. Soak up the beautiful sights of 1930s Atlanta and 1950s Louisiana. Take in the novelty of the very English Maggie Smith and the equally Irish Fionnula Flanagan (The Others) mugging and cracking wise as aging southern belles.
If you ever start to get fed up with the antics of all these
crazy dames, fall back on the even-keeled supporting male
characters. Identify with Sidda’s fiancé Connor as he makes
a valiant stand for sane and grown-up behavior in the drama-queen
world of the
Garner in particular gets some of the film’s most poignant
moments. In one touching father-daughter scene, Sidda looks at
Shep and asks suddenly, "Daddy, did you get loved enough?" Shep’s
eyes crinkle as he looks off into the distance, and he murmurs
only: "Oh, well… what’s enough? My question is, did you?"
Then there’s the scene in which Shep explains to Vivi how he’s
always looked at their relationship — followed by the priceless
look on his face when she responds with a naughty double-entendre
To enjoy these elements, you’ll have to sort through the film’s mixed portrayal of Catholicism, which is nowhere better exemplified than in a scene with Burstyn in her nightgown on the lawn in a circle of sparklers, invoking the Blessed Mother with attempted bargains and then dancing under a full moon. We also see Vivi’s own mother as a neurotic, guilt-obsessed woman whose husband contemptuously calls her a "pathetic Catholic idiot."
It’s hard to know what we’re meant to think of the priest to whom Vivi confesses her decidedly nonmaternal feelings and impulses. While his advice to her is not couched with great sympathy, it seems like fine advice. (He tells her to try to banish her bad thoughts of abandoning her children and harming her husband, and to ask Mary the mother of our Lord to help her accept the will of God with perfect submission.)
The priest also refers Vivi to a doctor for help with her
drinking, though it turns out that the doctor errs badly in
treating her — an error that another man suggests the doctor
might be culpable for, though that possibility is later dismissed
by a character who comments, "Nobody knew
And of course one would like to offer Vivi some remedial
catechesis when she says, "There are some things for which I
don’t expect to be forgiven by my children — not even by God."
Finally, while the
Although Divine Secrets of the
Copyright © 2000– Steven D. Greydanus. All rights reserved.