Beatriz is a middle-aged woman who immigrated to U.S. from a small, poor town in Mexico when she was young. From the film’s opening scenes, we quickly learn that Beatriz leads the mestizaje life; she comfortably vacillates between English and Spanish, on her dashboard sit both la virgen de Guadalupe and the Buddha, and she demonstrates competence in a variety of holistic medicinal practices. In fact, she is so competent in her work that her services attract a wealthy couple from Newport beach, Cathy and Grant, who regularly have her come down for private sessions. After a session with Cathy, Beatriz’ car breaks down and she ends up having to stay for a dinner Cathy and Grant are hosting for the business tycoon Doug Scott.
On a deeper level, Beatriz at Dinner portrays the collision of two very different lifestyles and life-perspectives which co-exist in America: Beatriz embodies the lower class immigrant experience, who cherishes all living things, sentient or not, who seeks to live within her means, and who champions the healing of the world. Doug Scott and the sycophants who surround him at the dinner party represent upper class individualism and pragmatic entrepreneurialism. The filmmakers go to great lengths to make sure we feel the vast disparities between Beatriz and the Newport folk.
Over the course of the evening Beatriz transitions from gentle aloofness to concentrated disgust. To communicate her growing discomfort with Doug and the others, Hayak holds tension in her facial expressions and gait, saving the screaming and rage for the right moments. None of the other actors really stick out which works well for their one-dimensional, suburban characters and their mawkish concerns. It felt like their purpose was to set the stage for Beatriz and Doug’s conversations, which made for a good film.
When the film features only Beatriz in the frame, we see her in intimate close ups or medium shots with a shallow depth field (unless she is looking at nature; then we see her and the nature). In contrast, we are given long to extreme long shots of Cathy and Grant’s neighborhood in Newport and medium shots of them with wide angles and deep depth of field. The former camera work accentuates Beatriz’ intimate personality and openness to others. The latter highlights the extravagance and opulence of the spaces and the people who live in them.
Despite all of the socioeconomic and ecological commentary going on within the film, Beatriz at Dinner surprisingly is not heavy handed or explicit about the various perspectives represented. The words Republican, Democrat, conservative, liberal, etc. do not come up at all in the film. The film seems more interested in exploring the ultimate concerns of these people along with emphasizing their humanity. While Doug’s ultimate concern is accumulating more wealth and flaunting his economic prowess, he is still able to recognize the beauty and humanity of Beatriz when she sings a song for the group. While Beatriz is deeply sensitive to how her actions effect others and eager to restore what is broken in the world, she angrily, even violently, explodes at Doug’s arrogance and disregard of others outside his race and class. Both are saint and sinner.
However, for all of the films’ efforts to give a dynamic and socially relevant story, we aren’t given much beyond the dialectic of Doug and Beatriz. In terms of theme and plot, Beatriz at Dinner left me wanting more than just seeing socially and ideologically disparate people interact. It shows where its characters and, by extension, its audience are now, but it is ambiguous in regards to where we can go from here.
Beatriz at Dinner demonstrates ethical practices through which civil discourse can take place, such as sharing a meal with those different than yourself, but such practices aren’t rooted in any real hope for holistic change. We don’t go beyond Doug’s racist patronizing of Beatriz and Beatriz’ diatribe against Doug. The film’s hopelessness is its most poignantly, and perhaps inadvertently, relevant theme – we are a nation of people estranged from each other.
In Prophetic Fragments: Illuminations of the Crisis in American Religion and Culture, when commenting of Dr. King’s love ethic of non-violent resistance, Cornel West points out that it was ultimately King’s “profound trust in the redemptive power of love in God’s salvific plan” which assured him that equality and beloved community for all was an achievable goal. It was the victory of love and justice in the resurrection of Jesus Christ that informed King’s non-violent resistance, especially during the bleaker moments of the Civil Rights movement. West goes on to note that without such assurance “we simply must admit that we are doomed to an unending cycle of violence and oppression.” While I don’t think it was the filmmakers’ intention, through its lack of hope, Beatriz at Dinner reminds me of the necessity of hope in moving towards beloved community.