As I sat through the two hours and seventeen minutes of The Help, I was more than aware that my emotions were being thoroughly, albeit crudely manipulated. However, it was done so obviously and guilelessly with the touching affection of a toddler first learning empathy that I didn't mind a bit. The story follows a sympathetic reporter who decides to tell the tale of the silent community of black women who serve the majority of the middle-class American South in the 1950s.
From the very beginning, this film chooses not to hide from all the old clichés of these types of racial identity movies; with the usual hideously nasty racist mistress and bitchy relational aggression of the apparently superior suburban white community, as well as the classic, quiet dignity of the down-trodden eponymous black 'help'. However, a liberal handful original characters and an excellent cast lift this movie from the farce it could so easily have become.
Viola Davis is incredible in a subtle, understated performance that acts as a foil to the loud, obnoxious 50s housewives who make up her employers. Bryce Dallas Howard gives an admirable performance in the role of the wicked young bigot with just the right amount of bitterness and desperation that means you can understand the danger she embodies without dismissing her as a figure of ridicule - in spite of the overt slapstick comedy to which she is at times subjected. Octavia Spencer is delightfully cast to provide comic relief in the guise of the formidable best friend. Indeed this is a woman's film, in that men play a very minor role, but it is by no means your average chick flick. Whenever Hollywood decides to tackle the 'racial question' it usually does so through the medium of angry young men (American History X) or crazy red-necked mobs (A Time to Kill, To Kill a Mockingbird). Rarely, if ever, do we see the everyday, casual prejudice and discrimination that took place in the supposedly safe, comfortable, middle-class homes. This is something this movie portrays well, along with the easy, casual violence that women can so effectively inflict on each other in their own relationships.
That said, I knew when I was meant to feel weepy (cue unfairness, bullying and random cruelty) and when I was to laugh (whenever the bad guy gets come-uppance), but there was always just a touch of originality in the script and skill in the acting that meant the film was never entirely predictable and no happy endings were begrudged. Certainly, it's the first time I've seen coprophagia used as a comedic device.
All in all, this movie may not bring anything particularly new or special to the genre, but it entertains while leaving you with pause for thought, which is more than most films have to offer nowadays.
