Why ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ Visuals Should Carry the TV Series to Emmy Victory

‘The Handmaid’s Tale,’ which stars Elisabeth Moss as June/Offred, is a hard watch in terms of emotional drama. But the TV series, which is the first prestige drama to focus intimately on a woman’s perspective of a dystopian world, rivals ‘Game of Thrones’ in terms of visual splendor.

The Handmaid's Tale

Guest post written by Ani Bundel.


When the Emmy nominations for the 2016-2017 television season arrived, for the first time since 2011, there was a huge opening for new “prestige TV shows” to make their mark. For years, the “Drama” category, as well as the myriad of technical awards that are pushed out of the main televised portion of the event, has been dominated by one show: Game of Thrones. But this year, due to a twist in scheduling, HBO’s mainstay is not eligible. In its stead, the opportunity for Best Drama, as well as wins for cinematography, production design, and costumes, should go to The Handmaid’s Tale. In addition to these categories, the series also received Emmy nominations for acting (Elisabeth Moss, Samira Wiley, Ann Down, and Alexis Bledel), directing (Reed Morano and Kate Dennis), writing (Bruce Miller), casting, and visual effects.

The Handmaid’s Tale, which stars Elisabeth Moss as June/Offred, is a hard watch in terms of emotional drama. But the TV series, which is the first prestige drama to focus intimately on a woman’s perspective of a dystopian world, rivals Game of Thrones in terms of visual splendor. Some of the more chilling aspects of the show are drawn directly from Margaret Atwood’s 1985 dystopian novel: the blood red of the Handmaids’ garb, the blue of the Wives. In addition to evoking a sanguine shade, Atwood chose red for the Handmaids to symbolize Mary Magdalene. She also chose the color because prisoners of war were forced to wear red in Canada during WWII “because it shows up so very well in the snow.” In the novel and the series, the Wives wear blue to symbolize the Virgin Mary and feminine religious piety. The particular shades of red and peacock blue used were inspire by nature: a red maple leaf against a teal sky, used to contrast the two groups of women but still be aesthetically appealing visually. The show’s choices with lighting enhance this already striking visual stratification of society. Regarding the costumes’ color symbolism, costume designer Ane Crabtree told Vanity Fair:

“We wanted the Handmaids, as they are the fertile women’s tribe of the story, to flow down the streets of Gilead, leaving a long line of red in the midst of the gray of Gilead. Beyond this, the red is the color of a womb, of a wanton woman, a scarlet kind of mark upon a pious world of dark tones in the visual landscape, and also in a tiny intimate space.”

In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Crabtree said that it was “intense” finding the right shade of red that would look like “liquid blood” as well as look striking on camera on women of all races. Just as the wardrobes stratify the women, the lighting and production design work in tandem to convey the Handmaids’ oppression as well. Director of photography Colin Watkinson told Indiewire: “I want you to feel the light coming from the outside, so it’s based in a reality, but it’s a hyperreality.” Production designer Julie Berghoff told Curbed that visually, June/Offred “should feel like a mouse in a cage.”

Before the series even aired on Hulu, the red of the Handmaids’ costumes along with their bonnets (which work like human versions of horse blinders) had already made an impact. Cosplayers showed up to events (and to political rallies) dressed in costumes taken from the show’s promotional materials, unnerving those passing by and security guards alike. But on-screen, the stark red of their outfits becomes more pronounced with the warm, pink tinged lighting tones.

The Handmaid's Tale

In scenes like the birthing room, and other moments when all the Handmaids are gathered together with Aunt Lydia (Ann Dowd), the show turns up the pink highlights. The TV series “uses vaguely Nazi brown for the Aunts.” The skin of the actresses become rosier, more flushed, as if to remind us these women who are forced to serve are alive, full of life, in fact the only ones so alive, they can breed new life.

Contrast that against the green filters used on the wives like Serena Joy (Yvonne Strahovski). Much like the pink tinged filters, the most obvious moment comes during the birthing scene, with the wives downstairs playacting at labor while upstairs the handmaid Ofwarren (Madeline Brewer) actually feels the pain.

But it is all the more jarring when these green women suddenly invade the birthing room at the end of the sequence, and their green is suddenly lit by the pink filters – a little borrowing of the Handmaid’s inner life while stealing their inner ability to make it. The opposite happens during the afterbirth, when Offred is forced to sit in the green tinged living rooms of the Wives cooing over the baby. The green filters drain Moss of the pink we’ve seen her look previously, as these vampires around her drain it for their own masquerades.

The Handmaids Tale

Interestingly, there are two other moments when Offred looks less lifelike. The first is with Commander Waterford (Joseph Fiennes). He too is lit with a green wash to match his wife. It’s a subtle signaling by the show that he is just as barren as the woman he married, and that in fact, there is no chance he can get Offred any more pregnant than he can Serena Joy. Both Waterfords are always lit in green tones — even during the “before” flashbacks of the Serena Joy episode. Not only are they sterile people — although we don’t actually know if Serena is infertile, as women are the ones blamed for infertility, despite at least the doctor Offred visits knowing it’s men who could be sterile — they are sickly ones who would oppress others and take their happiness.

The other times Offred looks more pallid are whenever she’s down in the kitchen with the Martha character Rita (Amanda Brugel). The Marthas, per the book, are dressed in drab greens, as if to help them fade into the walls. The lighting enhances this, and Wilkinson said for the lighting they “opted for grey diffusion and unbleached muslin bounce.” But the lighting on the Marthas is always unnaturally dim and shadowed, as if to hide them. No wonder they are the servants in Gilead with the most effective network.

There is one time in Gilead that these stratifications are thrown to the side – the trip to the world of the Jezebels where Offred sees Moira (Samira Wiley) for the first time since being assigned to the Waterfords. Those sequences have a golden tinge to them, a deliberate call back to all of the sequences “before” Gilead happened. This is also the time when we see people wearing the colors of pre-Gilead life. It’s noteworthy that these sequences eschew red, greenish blue, and grayish green for browns, oranges, yellows, and blues.

The Handmaids Tale

Book readers could have predicted this about the Jezebels sequence – after all, that, like the rest of the world building, is pulled straight from the novel. But what was striking is how much it recalled the flashbacks (which don’t exist quite in the same fashion on the page), as well as our Canadian episode with June’s husband Luke (O-T Fagbenle).

On first watch, this was my least favorite episode. In a show that had focused on the oppression of women and their stories, why were we forced to sit for an hour to watch a man who escaped this world? (Other than the obviousness that this was helping build out space for a second season?) But upon closer inspection, this episode turned out to be the cruelest cut of all, and it was all in the lighting of Luke’s memories.

All the memories of June with their daughter were gold hued and backlit, creating golden halos around June’s silhouette. Now, I understand that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for Luke to hold on to the past to rescue his wife requires he remember his family as sweeter than perhaps they were in his pre-Gilead life. But this “Mother Mary” image of his wife (second wife, as we should recall) also recalls the scene in the early episodes when the rights of women were first taken away. Luke’s response to June, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

The Handmaid's Tale

Though he might not be the one trying to take her rights away, it doesn’t bother him that much when those rights are taken. This sexist condescension, which both June and Moira challenge, makes it seem like June was never fully equal or human to him – even a good man, like Luke, has these patriarchal beliefs inside him. No wonder Gilead succeeded. Who is to say that Luke wouldn’t stop bothering to rescue his wife if he was offered a house like the Commander’s, and a Handmaid of his own? Although, Luke would never be offered these luxuries as the government considered him a criminal for marrying a second time.

All this worldbuilding, shown with just a few visual cues. So much said about where our society could head, if we don’t stay vigilant against those who would oppress us. Yet, our society (and others) already headed this way historically with slavery in the U.S. and the rape and forced breeding of Black women. Stealing children occurred in Argentina and to Indigenous people in Canada and Australia. Every oppressive tactic by Gilead in both the novel and the TV series has occurred in real life. Echoing this, director and executive producer Reed Morano told Indiewire:

“I didn’t want it feel like a period piece. That was my fear with the costumes and everything. I pushed very hard that all the uniforms in Gilead had modern elements to them. Period would defeat the purpose. There are women in the world who experience these things today, and this story is a warning it could happen here just like that. It needed to be and feel other.”

The TCAs have already heaped nominations upon The Handmaid’s Tale (along with This Is Us), the first bellwether of how this year’s awards will lean. Let’s hope that the Emmys follow suit and The Handmaid’s Tale wins the awards it rightfully deserves.


Ani Bundel is a TV writer with EliteDaily and Tellyvisions. You can find her on the internet at Anibundel.com, or on Twitter @anibundel. An anglophilic pop culture fashion junkie with a penchant for snark. All posts are approved by her cats.

‘The One I Love’ and the World’s Strangest Marriage Retreat

If you’ve seen an ad or trailer for ‘The One I Love,’ you probably still don’t know much about it. After watching a trailer you’d think it’s a movie about a couple going in and out of doors. All of film’s advertising hinted at, but never revealed the Charlie Kaufman-esque twist at the heart of its story, telling intrigued audiences only that an amazing twist existed and that critics agreed that it would spoil the film to reveal it. Which is pretty odd, because the twist in question takes place only 20 minutes in. Right off the bat I should probably tell you I’m going to spoil this movie, mostly because I want to talk about it.

Poster for The One I Love
Poster for The One I Love

 

If you’ve seen an ad or trailer for The One I Love, you probably still don’t know much about it. After watching a trailer you’d think it’s a movie about a couple going in and out of doors. All of film’s advertising hinted at, but never revealed the Charlie Kaufman-esque twist at the heart of its story, telling intrigued audiences only that an amazing twist existed and that critics agreed it would spoil the film to reveal it.

Which is pretty odd, because the twist in question takes place only 20 minutes in. Right off the bat I should probably tell you I’m going to spoil this movie, mostly because I want to talk about it.

The One I Love, Charlie McDowell’s directorial debut, is a very small film on paper. The vast majority of the thing takes between lead actors Elisabeth Moss of Mad Men and Top of the Lake, and Mark Duplass (The League, Safety Not Guaranteed), who play Sophie and Ethan, a couple on the brink of divorce. Sophie is still reeling from the news of Ethan’s infidelity and for his part, Ethan is frustrated by his inability to recreate the romantic gestures that used to come so naturally. As Ted Danson, who steps in for about five minutes to play the couple’s marriage counselor, tells them, they are no longer in harmony. His prescription? A weekend at his idyllic country estate, supposedly to rekindle their romance.

 

Sophie and Ethan are a couple on the brink of divorce
Sophie and Ethan are a couple on the brink of divorce

 

McDowell and writer Justin Lader use this familiar set-up to lull viewers into false sense of comfort. It all seems on track to be another feel-good Hollywood fluff-fest in the tradition of Hope Springs and Couples Retreat.

And it is, but only for a short while. On the first night, Sophie and Ethan make dinner together, get high, have sex in the guesthouse, and rediscover the playful spontaneity of their earlier relationship. They seem to be back in sync, until Sophie returns to the main house and discovers Ethan remembers nothing about their night together. The next morning, Ethan wakes to find Sophie happily preparing his breakfast with no awareness of the previous night’s fight. He knows something truly strange is going on when he realizes the breakfast she’s made includes bacon (“You hate it when I eat bacon,” he accuses).

These strange confusions keep piling up until Sophie and Ethan realize that when one of them enters the guesthouse alone, they encounter a doppelgänger of their partner. It seems like an outrageous and complicated twist, but the gradual revelation, skilled direction and comedic dancing around the conclusion make it appear strangely natural.

Sophie and Ethan’s doppelgängers are not exact copies but idealized version of the couple. They each represent the fantasy each person has of their partner and what they have been missing. Fake Ethan is playful and athletic and wears contacts instead of the glasses Sophie hates. He’s sensitive. He likes to goof around and play little games and enjoys Sophie’s idiosyncrasies. Most importantly, he would never dream of cheating on her and even apologizes for Ethan’s cheating in a way that melts Sophie’s heart.

Fake Sophie is clearly inspired by Ethan’s attraction to 50s housewives. She rises early to cook him a full and very greasy breakfast, as she is clad in satin and lace and chirps at him with perpetual enthusiasm. However, Ethan never displays any sexual interest towards this version of Sophie, preventing her from being a fetishistic sex robot. Instead, it is Sophie who is tempted by Fake Ethan and displays both sexual and romantic attraction toward him. A love triangle quickly develops between Sophie and the two Ethans, with Fake Sophie swept off to the sidelines as a mere distraction.

 

Elisabeth Moss subtly portrays the differences between Real Sophie and Fake Sophie with slight changes in hairstyle and expression
Elisabeth Moss subtly portrays the differences between Real Sophie and Fake Sophie with slight changes in hairstyle and expression

 

Both actors portray two physically identical versions of their characters who seem completely different just based on their voices, facial expression and small differences in hairstyle. Through Moss gives a particularly impressive performance, softening her voice and giving flirtatious looks as Fake Sophie, she isn’t given nearly as much opportunity to shine as Duplass. Moss is able to hint at hidden depths in both her characters, transforming them from mere hero and villain to three dimensional characters.

For his part, Duplass is great, highlighting the difference between schlubby real Ethan and cunning Fake Ethan just by adding or removing his glasses, mussing up his hair and subtly contorting his face. Sophie quickly falls in love with Fake Ethan and it’s easy to see why. He gives her the understanding she craves, allows romantic moments to unfold without contrivance and tells her exactly what she wants to hear about Ethan’s reasons for being unfaithful. It’s clear  that the gulf between the man Sophie wants him to be and the man really he is ever widening. More and more, Fake Ethan seems like the man she should be with. Especially as the real Ethan spies on their time together, after agreeing to give her her privacy and pretending to be Fake Ethan to seduce her, a betrayal which makes Sophie feel violated.

As the conflict worsens, the film focuses on Ethan’s point of view, shifting away from the original marital conflict and into a more standard love triangle plot, only with Ethan competing against himself for his wife’s affection.

 

Ethan grows jealous of Sophie’s attraction to Fake Ethan and spies on them together
Ethan grows jealous of Sophie’s attraction to Fake Ethan and spies on them together

 

As Ethan and Sophie’s relationship weakens, the doppelgängers get stronger and are allowed more free movement, eventually leaving the guesthouse and acquiring cell phones. The whole thing is turned upside down midway through when the real couple are confronted by their doubles and the most awkward double date in history ensues.

Interestingly, the doppelgängers appear to be actual people with their own concerns and lives, which do not revolve around Ethan and Sophie. Like real Ethan, Fake Sophie feels she is losing the love of her life to another and her point of view is given just enough space in the film to be tantalizing.

 

Fake Sophie, reminiscent of a 50s housewife, is an intriguing character and a wasted opportunity
Fake Sophie, reminiscent of a 50s housewife, is an intriguing character and a wasted opportunity

 

This is where I felt the film went off the rails.

I breathed a sign of relief early on when the film appeared to abandon the always unsatisfying path of trying to explain the supernatural element. Unfortunately the last third of the film stumbles around through establishing a mythology. Here, filmmakers appear to have grown bored with exploring Sophie and Ethan’s crippled marriage; instead The One I Love becomes full-on science fiction and a creeping sense of dread falls over the proceedings, though the film never commits to making the situation seem truly dangerous instead of goofy dangerous. An explanation for the magic of the guesthouse is hastily introduced, leaving more questions than it answers, as well as a frustrating amount of plot holes. Based on the care put into making the doubles feel natural, I didn’t feel the film needed any sort of explanation. Indeed, it stripes away the naturalness from Ethan and Sophie’s conversations, forcing them into repetitive arguments.

 

Ethan’s doppelgänger seems like a perfect match for Sophie
Ethan’s doppelgänger seems like a perfect match for Sophie

 

The last few minutes are particularly unsatisfying and confusing, giving us a variation of the cliche “shoot her!” “no, shoot her!” from most doppelgänger stories.

Overall, the film’s eventual shift to toward sci-fi dilutes the message it intends to convey. Rather than ending on the relationship and our concerns of whether harmony has been restored, viewers are left questioning one last sci-fi twist that seems plucked from an entirely different movie. In the end, the film doesn’t deliver on the message its premise implies: that we must come to terms with the flaws in our partners and learn that if they were perfect, they would be a stranger to us. But I’m not sure if the long strange trip of the film wasn’t all the better for subverting this expectation.

After watching the film it’s amusing to see how slyly the film’s promotion alluded to the twist. The film’s poster shows Sophie and Ethan half submerged in water, so their reflection take up half the available space. And official summaries for the film describe the purpose of the retreat as an attempt to “discover their better selves.”

While the ending got quite muddled, the story was full of twists and turns and glided smoothly from plot shift to plot shift. Moss and Duplass deliver captivating performances as both Sophie and Ethan and their mirror images, complementing each other perfectly. It is a joy to watch them deftly portray subtle changes in personality and opinion.

They are aided by a creative script and skilled direction, which dare the viewer to think (perhaps uncomfortably) about their own relationships and the self they present to the world.

Where the film missteps, with its attempt to explain where the doppelgängers come from, could have been avoided with a lesson from Sophie. After discovering their doubles, she suggests it’s just a magic trick–the best experience comes from enjoying the mystery.

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Elizabeth Kiy is a Canadian writer and journalist living in Toronto, Ontario.