Notes on a Scandal – Bitch Flicks

Older Women Week: Judi Dench Carries ‘Notes On A Scandal,’ and Other Badass Accomplishments

There’s an imperative reason why Dench was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress in a film for Notes On a Scandal. The Academy can be a load of BS with their ageism and racism, but sometimes, they get it right. It’s also quite wonderful to point out that Dench scored her first nomination at 64, her first and only win at 65, and four nods after— the last being Notes on a Scandal. For people to say that she is too old for anything is simply wrong on all counts. She truly is at her artistic best.

Notes on a Scandal film poster.

Written by Janyce Denise Glasper

Dame Judi Dench is a favorite of mine and definitely worthy of this appropriately named tumblr.

Dench played the wonderful Armande Voizon in Chocolat, a witty, brooding mother who gluttonously indulged despite having diabetes. She doesn’t have the “traditional” Bond Girl look and physique, but she kicks major ass as M (who is supposed to be a man) in the James Bond films. Sadly, it is her appearance in the Bond films that gets her the most recognition. She also voiced the darling Mrs. Lilly on the British animated series, Angelina Ballerina, and I have no shame in admitting that my hard drive houses several episodes. We can’t forget her unforgettable turns in Importance of Being Earnest, Iris, Shakespeare in Love, Mrs. Henderson Presents and so on.

When I see Dench on screen, I don’t see an aging actress fading and desiring work outside of matronly figure. I see a talented woman full of zesty relish and passion for her craft. Notes on a Scandal showcased a terrifying brilliance unlike anything I had ever seen from her, ultimately proving that Dench can wear many hats.

Barbara (Judi Dench) in her turtleneck and sweater cardigan wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Dench’s earlier portrayed characters contain humor and charm. In Notes on a Scandal, a film based on Zoe Heller’s novel, Barbara Covett certainly has that nestled inside her sea of condescending criticisms of the world around her. She drifts sans lifeboat and purpose; her greatest love is writing scribbles and taking care of her cat. Young, sensually stirring, carefree Sheba Hart (Cate Blanchett) floats listlessly into Barbara’s mundane life. A dark and sinister side disguised underneath a mask of a nonthreatening single old woman emerges with savage claws and teeth bared, waiting with perceptive eyes to strike into Sheba’s vulnerability.

There’s an imperative reason why Dench was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress in a film for Notes On a Scandal. The Academy can be a load of BS with their ageism and racism, but sometimes, they get it right. It’s also quite wonderful to point out that Dench scored her first nomination at 64, her first and only win at 65, and four nods after– the last being Notes on a Scandal. For people to say that she is too old for anything is imply unstated and wrong on all counts. She truly is at her artistic best.

In the Guardian’s article called, “I Never Want to Stop Working,” Dench briefly touches on why she felt compelled to play such a wicked character.

“I remember reading the novel Notes on a Scandal and thinking: I would love to play that woman, to try to find a humanity in that dreadful person. I was thrilled to be asked to do that.”

Barbara’s (Judi Dench) cat just died and she’s going postal on Sheba (Cate Blanchett) for trying to “abandon” her during the mourning process.

Notes on a Scandal is almost a Single White Femalesituation and some parts are unsettling in this disturbing thriller. Except that Barbara doesn’t want to mimic Sheba. She wants her. The undeniable tension between Barbara and her ravenous fixation on Sheba manifests into an overwhelming viscerally charged moment of raw intensity. Barbara is seeking sensual validation and believes that Sheba holds the key to fulfilling the fragmented jigsaw. She is deluded into actually concluding that Sheba is the missing puzzle piece that fits into an isolated world longing for female companionship. Sheba, so naive and unaware of Barbara’s lesbian attraction and dishonorable intentions, is just as lost and confused as the young boy she seduced.

Dench plays the hell out of this demented woman on the brink of lunacy with a sweet voice coated in cold calculating manipulation and demure blue eyes spurning icy darts of pure evil. I was so used to her sweet and congenial characters that Barbara Covett just literally frightened the depths of my soul. She is an unrootable and unstable character, yet smart and sly. It opened up this strange can of worms–I love Dench, but for the life of me, I despised Barbara and her sick, compulsive selfishness. Why couldn’t she have asked Sheba, “Let’s be friends?” Why deceive?

With close cropped silver hair and a diligent work ethic, Judi Dench continues to defy Hollywood’s obsession with long hair and youth.

Notes on a Scandal is a twisted piece of filmmaking that does touch on age and the desire to stay trapped inside youthfulness–that place where all the cool people reside. I have yet to read Zeller’s book, but feel compelled that I must do so.

As for Judi Dench, let’s applaud her never-ending quest to continue shining through and not letting a little thing like age get in the way of a versatile career. I see another Oscar nod or two in her future.

Older Women Week: ‘Notes on a Scandal’: The Older Woman As Predator and Prey

This is a guest post by Elizabeth Kiy.

“I don’t know. It’s just the distance between life as you dream it and life as it is.” –Sheba Hart

Notes on a Scandal film poster

In Notes on a Scandal, a 2006 British psychological thriller, a web of lies and manipulations form around the relationship of two schoolteachers who live very different lives.

Told through her point of view, the film takes viewers into the mind of Barbara Covett (Judi Dench), an elderly woman whose sweet voice and grandmotherly appearance hide a cunning mind and sinister intentions. She lives alone with her cat and confides only in her journal, whose entries form the film’s narration.

Her loneliness is compounded by this narrative technique, as Barbara is often given no one to play off of and instead watches interactions from a distance, remaining an entirely closed off person with a rich internal life she only reveals in her private writing. For an older woman, whose age, unmarried status and perceived lack of attractiveness leave her virtually invisible and of no value to society, this narration allows her to express her resentment. But underneath her malice is the profound loneliness of a woman who seems to have never learned how to connect to people and to remain in their lives without manipulations.

Barbara only confides her real opinions in her journal

To a degree, her isolation is self imposed as Barbara sees the people around her, students and teachers alike, as uncultured, unwashed and unilaterally badly behaved. That she sees herself as above them is highlighted in an early sequence when she watches the children come into the school from an upper floor window. This is the scene where Barbara first sees Sheba Hart (Cate Blanchett).

Sheba’s first appearance presents a sharp contrast. She floats, very blonde and pale in a sea of dark haired students in black uniforms and the viewer’s eye, aligned with Barbara’s, is easily drawn to her. While Barbara, a through disciplinarian in dowdy clothes, fits naturally into the school environment, Sheba is alien within it. It is suggested that she has no authority over the students because she still sees herself as a young person and wants to be their friend. The film also addresses the idea of class difference which further sets Sheba, with her upperclass background, apart from the working class pupils.

The details of Sheba’s life seem comfortable enough; she lives in a large, ornate house with her much older husband (Bill Nighy–who interestingly portrayed a love interest to Dench in Best Exotic Marigold Hotel) and her two children, a teenage daughter (Juno Temple) and a boy with Down syndrome, but none of it makes her happy. In a telling detail, a photograph of Sheba in her youth, dressed in a punk style, is shown in her studio.

Teenage Sheba was a Siouxsie & The Banshees fan

Like her pottery and the art in her shed, this photograph suggests a life unfulfilled, that she imagined a bigger, more bohemian life for herself. This was the time in her life when she felt most free and most herself, before she was married or had children, and it is this sense of fulfillment she tries to reclaim by ultimately entering into a relationship with one of her students.

Her relationship with 15-year-old Steven Connolly is particularly disturbing because actor Andrew Simpson certainly looks this age. At first, he satisfies her idealism, and helping him develop his potential as an artist makes her feel useful in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. She tells Barbara it was he who began to pursue her, constantly following her and playing on her sympathy with sad stories about his family life. The first time she leaves her family to meet him, lying about where she is going, the camera briefly lingers on her son and husband, showing her last minute hesitation.

In viewing the situation as one where he pursued her and she was helpless in her desire (whether or not Sheba’s story to Barbara is reliable), she allows herself to feel young, desirable and like a teenager again, experiencing clandestine affairs. In this sense, her much older husband is recast as her father, which Connolly thinks he is when he sees him. Sheba’s relationship with her daughter, who is the same age as Connolly, is also changed as they both enter a similar world of teenage dating.

Teenage Steven Connolly pursues Sheba

In the end, it becomes clear Connolly can’t take the burden of this complicated relationship and the knowledge that she has a family and feels he has been used by her. In her efforts to reclaim her own carefree youth, she has been stealing his and forcing him to grow up. In one telling scene, Connolly looks through her records and is unfamiliar with the artists, highlighting their age gap. The wrongness of Sheba’s actions is brought home to her when Connolly, naked post-sex tries on her son’s hat. At the sight of him, she is repulsed and forces him to take it off.

Though both women struggle with loneliness and are unhappy with their lives, the different ways they deal with similar emotions cast them in degrees as predator and prey.

Alone and undervalued, Barbara rapidly develops an obsession with her younger colleague, which makes her feel more vital and connected to the world. She is fascinated with the exotic character that Sheba seems to be, someone so different from her. She is also jealous of Sheba, as in her narration she says that people like her only think they know what real loneliness is. With this in mind, when she discovers Sheba’s affair with Connolly, she uses it to blackmail her into being her friend.

Though society easily defines a woman like Sheba as a predator, and she is punished with a jail sentence at the film’s end, Barbara’s predatory nature is much subtler and hidden. She looks at Sheba’s life noting how around her family, she acts in a serving position, making dinner and tidying the dining room while the others sit and talk, that she alone has had to take care of the children. This allows Barbara to resent Sheba’s family as a burden placed on her that she’d be glad to be rid of.

Several characters mention Barbara’s old friend, Jennifer, who she doesn’t want to talk about, suggesting she has had these obsessives friendships before. They also suggest Barbara’s attraction to Sheba is actually repressed lesbian desire, unfortunately casting this desire as predatory by connecting it with Barbara’s manipulations. In one scene, the camera, showing her point of view, focuses on an extreme close-up of one of Sheba’s golden hairs falling. Like a lover, Barbara holds it delicately, as if it is precious to her and saves it in her diary.

The camera shows Barbara’s point of view as she gazes at Sheba with lust

In addition, during a moment of casual dancing during her first visit to the Harts, Barbara’s eyes scan up Sheba’s body, and her dancing is shown in slight slow motion, accentuating Barbara’s lustful gaze. This gaze challenges the societal view of an older woman as a sexless grandmother and presents her as someone with active sexual desires.

Sheba is also guilty of manipulating Barbara and dismissing her because of her age. Early on, when she first begins to confide in Barbara, she sees her as a good person to talk to because she assumes she does not have her own life or secrets. She assumes a woman like Barbara would be glad just to have a friend, and dismisses any idea that she could have sinister intentions running contrary to the older woman’s assumed place in society as the grandmother. With this assumption, she begins to prey on Barbara’s loneliness, continuing to see Connolly and buying Barbara gifts to silence her. The viewer begins to feel sympathy for Barbara here as her narration reveals that she lives in a fantasy world, believing she has a wonderful relationship with this loving friend who will take care for her in her old age.

Barbara dresses as a doting grandmother to visit the Harts

Similarly, Barbara shows her first genuine smile when she is first invited to Sheba’s family dinner. Because the film follows her through the minute details of getting ready; buying clothes and having her hair done, the invitation is inflated in importance. As the details momentarily consume the film, the preparations seem to become her whole life, revealing how small, unimportant and lonely it is. The insert shot of her in the mirror, nervously touching her hair stresses her concern about looking a certain way and fitting into the role expected of her.

She emerges wearing pearls and carrying flowers, the very picture of a sweet grandmother.

The film takes great care to show Barbara in an unflattering light, making the signs of her age, her thinning hair, neck fat and heavily wrinkled skin, appear (for lack of a better word) pathetic. It also suggests Barbara’s appearance mirrors her cold-hearted nature. This seems a bit hypocritical, as much of the film can be interpreted to suggest that the older woman should not be dismissed as having none of her own desires and secrets. By aligning the film with Barbara’s point of view and then including scenes, like the overhead shot of Barbara smoking in the bath with her sweaty older body on display, it is suggested not only that she is monstrous, but that she sees herself as monstrous.

Barbara’s “monstrous” older body on display in a purposefully unflattering shot

The older unmarried woman is often portrayed in media in a very cliched fashion, as treating her pet like a child, and this point in Barbara’s character is a bit heavy-handed. Her most vulnerable, “pathetic” moments occur around her cat, Portia, and its failing health. The one time she is explicit about her sexual attraction to Sheba, when the camera, showing her point of view, pans down to Sheba’s breasts, is after she finds out Portia is terminal. Angered Sheba doesn’t reciprocate, she reveals that she fully understands Sheba’s state of mind when she delivers the ultimate insult, telling her, “You’re not young.” When Portia is put down, Barbara is bewildered and irrational and tries to force Sheba into being with her. She goes to Sheba’s house and screams at her, attempting to pull her away from her family exactly when she is trying to reconnect with them.

To Barbara, this final betrayal marks the end of their friendship, as she buries not only her cat, but the silver frame Sheba had given her. Having become completely unhinged, Barbara now wants to possess Sheba and become the only thing in her life, as Sheba is in Barbara’s. With this goal, she reveals Sheba’s relationship with Connolly.

The overwhelming solitariness of Barbara’s life is contrasted with Sheba’s warm family evening, through crosscutting between them, counting down the last moments of Sheba’s happiness. When the affair is revealed, Sheba’s house is swarmed by the media, and her family rejects her. With no one else left, she has to call Barbara and rely on her friendship when she has nothing else.

Sheba, in her punk make-up, discovers the journal

Alone in Barbara’s apartment, Sheba tries to convince herself that she is still young and attractive, by applying punk make-up, finally visually becoming the teenage girl she had felt like.

As she sits, considering herself in the mirror, she discovers ripped pages from Barbara’s diary and, furious and scared, she begins to search for it. The film cuts between Barbara innocently shopping for their new life and Sheba discovering her obsessions and manipulations.

In the end, Sheba returns home to talk with her husband and rebuild her family, while Barbara sits with her new notebook, speculating on the life she could have lived with Sheba. Time passes and Barbara meets a new woman and begins her predatory advances all over again.

Barbara makes a new friend and the story begins again

Notes on a Scandal is an interesting film to look at through a lens of age, as it portrays elderly and middle-aged women being driven to manipulate each other and those around them by their fear of growing old and being (or feeling) alone. It is complicated in its depiction of lesbianism, its suggestion that a teenage boy is responsible for seducing his teacher, and its often cliched presentation of an elderly woman as a spinster worthy of pity.

Elizabeth Kiy has a degree in journalism with a minor in film from Carleton University. She lives in Toronto, Ontario and is currently working on a novel.

Notes on ‘Notes on a Scandal’

Moviegoers seeking a simple, erotic film laden with illicit trysts between a teacher and student may be left unsatisfied with Notes on a Scandal. While an affair between a teacher, Sheba (Cate Blanchett), and high school student, Steven (Andrew Simpson) serves as a definitive catalyst, Notes largely centers around the ambiguous relationship between Sheba and Barbara (Dame Judi Dench), a seasoned teacher at the same London comprehensive school.

Sheba is free-spirited and idealistic about her ability to make a difference in her pupils’ lives. Having been in the education system for decades, Barbara is slightly less optimistic. Despite their different schools of thought, when Barbara offers the fresh-faced Sheba disciplinary advice, a hopeful friendship develops between the two. Unknowingly, Sheba has consented to serve as a replacement for one of Jennifer, Barbara’s former friend who left under unclear circumstances.
Notes is a film that can be continuously (and pointlessly) picked apart in search of a clear protagonist and antagonist. Their relationship mirrors Newton’s third law: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. When Sheba is guilty of infidelity and statutory rape, Barbara also becomes guilty of blackmail. When Sheba sees the best in others, Barbara does as well. When one woman keeps secrets, so does the other. Neither woman can be exclusively deemed saint or sinner.

In cinematography, perhaps this is the highest possible form of feminism. Despite featuring a promiscuous adult and older woman, Notes does not typecast female characters into unrealistic “slut”, “wife material”, and “old bag” categories. Sheba’s husband, children, and paramour are rarities on-screen. In fact, upon his discovery, Sheba reassures her husband that the affair has nothing to do with him. There is minimal focus on Steven and Sheba’s sexual acts. Viewers are forced to wade through action, subtext, and their own gut feelings in search of a clear answer that refuses to reveal itself.

In a memorable scene where Barbara smokes a cigarette while bathing, the following journal entry serves as a voiceover:

“People like Sheba think they know what it is to be lonely. Bot of the drip, drip of the long-haul, no-end-in-sight solitude, they know nothing. What it’s like to construct an entire weekend around a visit to the launderette. Or to be so chronically untouched that the accidental brush of a bus conductor’s hand send a jolt of longing straight to your groin. Of this, Sheba and her like have no clue.”

While Barbara stagnates in her lonely past, Sheba is shrouded in the pleasantry of hers. In a parallel scene, she listens to Siouxsie and the Banshees while applying thick black eyeliner as her youthful lover stands near.

However, when Steven dons a hat that she’s made for her son, Sheba snaps. The children, the son with Down Syndrome and the adolescent daughter, come into focus. The illusion of the past becomes shattered.

Just as an aside, Juno Temple—the young actor who plays Sheba’s daughter—aces her role as a petulant daughter. For those interested in intense, incidentally homoerotic dramas about academia, loneliness and sexual taboo, her role in Notes on a Scandalevokes her performance in Cracks.)

For those seasoned lesbian subtext detectives who—like me—have religiously watched Xena: Warrior Princess and Rizzoli and Isles, there is significant evidence in favor of Barb wanting more than passionate friendship from her colleague:

In her initial journal entries about Sheba, Barb expresses her belief that she is “the one”; that they could become “companions.”
During a moment where Sheba is stressed, Barb runs her fingers up and down Sheba’s hands and arms, reminiscing on a time in her schooling where she and her female peers “used to stroke each other.” It makes Sheba uncomfortable.
When Sheba discovers Barbara’s diaries during the height of her statutory rape scandal, she yells, “So what it it, Bar? You want to roll around the floor like lovers? You want to fuck me, Barbara?” (She also calls “Virginia-Friggin’ Woolf”, yet there are arguably more similarities between Barb and the protagonist of Radclyffe Hall’s “Well of Loneliness.”)
Barbara is pre-occupied with gold stars.

When picking apart subtext, last names are also relevant. Barbara Covett covets Sheba Hart, who has a lot of heart for her students, including Steven Connelly, who consher into believing that his feelings are much more than pubescent lust.

When Barb accusingly asks Sheba while she continues her relationship with Steven even after Barb blackmails her, Sheba responds, “Secrets can be seductive.” Ultimately, Sheba is hardly the only one guilty of infidelity. Barb’s journals—which inevitably certify her as insane in Sheba’s mind—are well-hidden from her previous and current “companion,” and document her every manipulative action and thought.

Barbara’s one true love is fittingly ambiguous in gender and sexuality: Paper. Even while pursuing Sheba, she still carries on an affair with the notebooks that inevitably speeds up the destruction of her connection with Sheba.

Amid all the ambiguity, only one this is definite: Despite wanting all of her friend, there are still parts of herself which Barbara is unwilling to unveil.

***

While she doesn’t quite have the accent, Sarah Fonseca’s been known to accidently type ‘ya’ll’ in her articles. Thank g-d for copyeditors.

Sarah runs frantically between writing and feminist club meetings on her university’s campus. Fortunately, those two spheres collide more than one would think. She is heavily involved with National Organization for Women, Creative Writing Club, and Random Acts of Poetry at Georgia Southern University.

Sarah is a staff writer for Georgia Southern’s George-Anne newspaper, and occasionally contributes to other publications within the community. Her fiction has been published in The Q Review and recognized by the Harbuck Scholarship committee.

Sarah is currently applying for fellowship with Lambda Literary, and plans to present her paper entitled On the Queering of Hair at next year’s National Women’s Studies Association Conference.