The movie covers the life of Tammy Faye Bakker from the time when, as a child, she went to a revival meeting and spoke in tongues. When we next encounter her, she is in seminary, listening to student preacher Jim Bakker -- Andrew Garfield -- doing a sermon in class. About three minutes later they are married, and five minutes after that, they are TV preachers.
Anyone who was paying attention to America in the 1980s and 1990s is aware of what happened to them: their establishment of PTL and its triumph as a televised ministry for the Charismatic movement, the growing stories of Tammy Faye's sins, Bakker's financial wrongdoings and homosexuality, and eventually their eclipse. What is surprising is that this movie portrays these two as sincere if deeply flawed, Bakker's millions in embezzlement as more of a cash-flow problem than anything else, and Tammy Faye's on-air personna as exactly who she was. That Chastain is able to keep this Lina Lamont character with runny mascara interesting enough to carry a two-hour movie is a triumph of not only acting, but make-up. Thirty years of aging in Garfield seems to be covered by changing his haircut, but Chastain ages from a common if attractive 20-year-old to a fat and frumpy 50 with tattooed lips and eyes. Best Actress Oscar is a tough call, but this looks like Oscar Gold for makeup artist Linda Dowds.
A movie like this needs a villain or six, and villainy is provided by Cherry Jones as Miss Chastain's mother, who denies her love because she divorced Tammy Faye's father, and prefers to play the piano at the church to smiling at her daughter; and Vincent D'Onofrio makes a very convincing Jerry Falwell Sr., jealous of the Bakkers' success, ready to court political power by turning G*d's love to hate, and with an utter disdain for women.
This tragedy of hubris is clearly intended as a warning to put not your faith in false prophets. Unfortunately, when people point at them, it's always some one else.
Anyone who was paying attention to America in the 1980s and 1990s is aware of what happened to them: their establishment of PTL and its triumph as a televised ministry for the Charismatic movement, the growing stories of Tammy Faye's sins, Bakker's financial wrongdoings and homosexuality, and eventually their eclipse. What is surprising is that this movie portrays these two as sincere if deeply flawed, Bakker's millions in embezzlement as more of a cash-flow problem than anything else, and Tammy Faye's on-air personna as exactly who she was. That Chastain is able to keep this Lina Lamont character with runny mascara interesting enough to carry a two-hour movie is a triumph of not only acting, but make-up. Thirty years of aging in Garfield seems to be covered by changing his haircut, but Chastain ages from a common if attractive 20-year-old to a fat and frumpy 50 with tattooed lips and eyes. Best Actress Oscar is a tough call, but this looks like Oscar Gold for makeup artist Linda Dowds.
A movie like this needs a villain or six, and villainy is provided by Cherry Jones as Miss Chastain's mother, who denies her love because she divorced Tammy Faye's father, and prefers to play the piano at the church to smiling at her daughter; and Vincent D'Onofrio makes a very convincing Jerry Falwell Sr., jealous of the Bakkers' success, ready to court political power by turning G*d's love to hate, and with an utter disdain for women.
This tragedy of hubris is clearly intended as a warning to put not your faith in false prophets. Unfortunately, when people point at them, it's always some one else.