The Little Hours a relevant study of gendered contrasts
MALCOLM MATTHEWS
Loosely based on Decameron by Baccaccio, a collection of 100 short stories written in the mid-1300s, The Little Hours is true to its source material in tone and sensibility.
With a powerhouse of a comedic cast, The Little Hours is a bawdy, profanity-laced thought experiment about what happens when cultural and religious phallocentrism collide with a trio of would-be liberated and libidinous women.
An extended Saturday Night Live skit but funnier and channelling Woody Allen’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex … (1972) and the Sir Galahad story arc of Monty Python’s Holy Grail (1975), The Little Hours is an absurdist but not necessarily absurd mash-up of genres and epochs. (Woody Allen might call it a “transposition of temperament.”)
This is the story of Massetto (Dave Franco), a young stud on the run from Lord Bruno (Nick Offerman) a jealous husband determined to exact revenge after learning of his plucky wife’s (Lauren Weedman) infidelity. Sequestered in a convent by Father Tammasso(JohnC.Reilly),Massetto must pretend to be deaf and mute as he tries to navigate the sex-fuelled lunacy of three of the convent’s nuns. Played respectively by Alison Brie, Kate Micucci and Aubrey Plaza, the three nuns, Alessandra, Ginerva and Fernanda, shed their habits and inhibitions around the beautifully filmed Italian countryside in what Father Tammasso calls “a pack mentality.” Seeking social and sexual liberation in the fields, in the forest, and in the stables, the nuns take turns having their way with Massetto, with each other and with the conventions of the Catholic church.
Helmed by director Jeff Baena, The Little Hours recruits much of his cast from his previous projects: Life After Beth (2014) and Joshy (2016). True to form, Baena has a proclivity for experimenting with the possibilities inherent in the impossible.
Whether it’s death as a vehicle for romantic enlightenment and selfdiscovery (as in Life After Beth) or a
The Film House
FirstOntario Performing Arts Centre, 250 St. Paul St., St. Catharines, 905688-0722 Listings for Aug. 29 to Sept. 4 The Little Hours: Tuesday 7 p.m., Thursday 7 p.m., Friday 9 p.m., Saturday 9 p.m., Sunday 7 p.m. Strangers on the Earth: Wednesday 7 p.m., Sunday 4 p.m. Lady Macbeth: Friday 6:30 p.m., Saturday 6:30 p.m., Sunday 4 p.m. The Wizard of Oz: Saturday 4 p.m. Tickets: $7 members, $9 general Online: FirstOntarioPAC.ca
story like this about what if women behaved as raw human beings clawing their way out from under the thumb of men and religion, Baena is at his best when taking convention for a ride. At times, Baena’s playfulness can seem self-indulgent. He doesn’t kowtow to his audience, nor is he hell-bent on commercial success or on making some profound political or social statement. He has clearly directed his phenomenally talented cast to privilege what’s funny over what’s expected.
Considering its anything-for-alaugh premise, however, the movie doesn’t evoke as many guffaws or thigh-slappers as one might expect. But its premise and cast are strong enough to carry this one-trick pony of a joke for the full 90 minutes.
The top-billed cast is nicely rounded out by Molly Shannon, Paul Reiser and Fred Armisen (who gives a scene-stealing performance as Bishop Bartolomeo). Without a weak link in the main or supporting casts, The Little Hours becomes an anachronistic albeit relevant study of gendered contrasts: abstinence and uninhibited sexuality, shouting and silence, and sin and sobriety. It’s not Sister Act silly or Naked Gun goofy, but it is a lot of fun, and it’s unlike anything else out there.
Some films hide their message. Others put it front and centre. The Little Hours does neither.
In this film, invoking the Marshal McLuhan Equation, the medium is the message. There is no convoluted plot to dissect and no heavy intellectual architecture to disassemble. This is simply a film about sexual emancipation and female freedom interspersed with layers of drunk lesbian soft-core nun porn.