My Girlfriend Experience

Girlfriend Experience (GFE) is a type of service a female prostitute offers which includes acting like a girlfriend to the client.

-- Wikipedia entry

I suppose I could've written a more sexy definition myself, but such that the dictates of my economic situation are, I can say freely that I haven't the requisite experience on the matter to do such a thing. If I could afford a sexy young thing to pose as my girlfriend-- although, it seems to me that in this film, Miss. Grey is more of an escort with a romanticized view of herself than a prostitute who offers herself as a girlfriend to the highest bidder-- I'd probably choose a more lively woman.

That's not to say that Christine (Grey), who is known as Chelsea to her clients, isn't beautiful. Sure. She is. But beyond that, Soderbergh and company have managed to take a very promising tale of a young woman actualizing herself in a world where the measure of successful actualization is-- pardon the pun-- equivalent to whoring oneself out until one is indistinguishable from all the other whores out there, and turn it into a whiny snoozer that is thankfully short.

The very fact of its brevity is a problem. There's just not much there, and one wonders if there's even a point at all except to say, "well, these people actually exist." But is that good enough? Is that worth the 1.3 Million supposedly spent? I'm not sure. As someone who wishes he could feasibly follow his dream of being a filmmaker, someone who has been sitting on a developing screenplay since he was 19, I can say that I would've loved for this film to be so much more, and I'm disappointed that it isn't.

It looks good. The premise sounds delicious. But the substance is nil. Soderbergh's film is set in modern day America. In fact, one of the themes is political and economic uncertainty. Very relevant. Very now. Christine and Chris are a couple. They live together in a swanky NYC apartment. They share very little screen time together and the two actors who portray them likewise share very little chemistry. There's a very arty, very European feel to their scenes together, but there's something amiss. The camera is almost too distant, too unobtrusive. Soderbergh (commendably but ineffectively) goes out of his way to not manipulate his audience at the expense of capturing any real performances.

It is almost unbearably minimalist. Spare to the point of wondering what the director's intent was. Was there supposed to be an ironic joke in casting an "it" girl, known for her adult film roles and risqué ad appearances, as a prostitute, and then having her do zero sex scenes (in fact rarely even nude)? Not that sex scenes were necessary, but they would've lent more action to such a catatonic film.

So Christine and Chris are a couple in NYC, somewhere in 2007/2008. America is entering a recession and there are bail-outs and debates and pissing and moaning abounds. McCain is mentioned. Obama is mentioned. Characters whine about being just a little bit poorer all while flying on private jets to Vegas and ordering $60 bottles of scotch and buying prostitutes, etc.. All of these characters (save one), are white, yuppie, and obsessed with anything short of substance.

Christine is trying to modify her website and expand her reach. She enters discussions about starting a true service. She's pulling in nice amounts of money. After all, she sits in her cozy apartment on her computer (a Mac, no doubt), writing of all her various clients-- she spares us deep observations, opting for surface descriptions and Bret Easton Ellis-like attention to product-- and spends her free time shopping and eating and just looking completely fucking dull. Why shouldn't she choose the "less work" option? Then she decides her relationship with Chris is not worth continuing because she started talking to a potential client that didn't laugh at her silly obsession with astrology (I'm not making this shit up)!

Call it a "soft arc" because her revelation is hardly dramatic or a cause for introspection or even action in/by the characters (I like this, actually-- gives it a realistic quality). In fact, it's kind of confusing because things happen so fast, and character development wasn't high on the list of any of the filmmakers' priorities. When I think about the title, I wonder: "has she really acted like a girlfriend to any of these men?" One guy patronized her services because he could, another used her as a kind ear, another used her as a way to foist upon her his kinkiness (which she rejected and was then blackballed), and another used her to not use her. Stood her up. For his family. How sweet. But she was never really a girlfriend. Not even to her boyfriend. Was that the "point?"

In the end, no one has learned anything, no one is happy, and well... we get to watch Christine give a jeweler an orgasm without even touching him sexually.