The two women frequently argue. Occasionally, the intense screaming disturbs the cats around them and they quickly leave the room. When the women eventually calm down, one by one the cats quietly return.
The camera follows closely 56-year-old Little Edie as she wanders around the big house. Most of the time she smiles and seems genuinely excited to show the filmmakers her latest outfit. The colors are often bright, demanding attention. The headscarves are always stylish. When she wears shoes, they also compliment her outfits.
Little Edie's mother, Big Edie, once a popular classical singer, spends most of her time in her filthy bed. Occasionally, she sings her favorite songs. This is when Little Edie likes to remind Big Edie - quite possibly to annoy her - that her husband left her for a younger woman. Little Edie would also mention the names of other men, some of them wealthy celebrities, whom Big Edie could not keep.
Old photographs are frequently examined. The beauty the two women see on them warms up their hearts. But the photographs remind Little Edie that she also could have married if her mother would have approved at least one of the young men she brought home years ago. When Little Eddie utters their names, her voice always shakes with emotion.
A young boy occasionally visits the house. Little Edie pretends that he is an admirer, but the boy looks either confused or flat-out intimidated when she comes close to him. He rarely speaks. When the boy eventually leaves Little Edie tells Big Edie that she knows exactly what is on his mind.
Meanwhile, another young boy routinely delivers large boxes full of groceries. But he never rings the bell, possibly because he was never offered a tip. A rather large skunk living somewhere in the attic also makes multiple appearances.
The strength of this cult documentary film directed by Albert and David Maysles, and co-directed by Muffie Meyer and Ellen Hovde, is its ability to observe the absurd with respect. The alternative easily could have been an exploitative film in which the two women are simply treated as exotic objects and eventually encouraged to self-destruct in front of the camera. (And this could have been quite easy to do).
The endless arguing, however, quickly becomes depressing. The more time the viewer spends with the two women, the clearer it becomes that their lives are devoid of just about everything that would make them worth living. The big house is their fortress, a place where they can hide and be themselves, but also their prison. The women know it. And when they occasionally remind each other that they have lost their freedom, one can't help but feel sorry for them.
Ultimately, Grey Gardens could be a fascinating experience for those who have a soft spot for extravagant characters. With the right mindset, some viewers will discover plenty of humor in it. But there will also be many viewers who will find the two women's ghostly existence almost unbearably depressing.
Note: In 2010, Grey Gardens was selected by the Library of Congress for preservation in the United States National Film Registry as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".
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