Positioning itself as the next chapter in “The Iron Lady” series, “Golda” feels more like watching a movie inside a smoke-filled paper bag than a cinematic experience.
Dame Helen Mirren is hardly recognizable in three and a half hours of heavy makeup and prosthetics. The Oscar-winning actress is calmly fierce in the role of the fourth Prime Minister of Israel, in office from 1969 to 1974. Much like “The Iron Lady” and many historical biopics, the screenplay focuses on the 1973 Yom Kippur War, using flashbacks to fill in historical backstory. Oscar-winning short film director Guy Nattiv helms this project, never elevating it above stagnant ’90s biopics shown in classrooms. The makeup team should certainly be proud of their work — however, there are too many unnecessary close-ups in the film.
“We’ve got trouble with the neighbors again,” Prime Minister Golda Meir explains to U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger (Liev Schreiber). With Egypt and Syria at their doorstep, a tired, weary, and cancerous grandmother figure must lead the country through its darkest moments. Swollen ankles and a cigarette nearby, Golda and military leaders work tirelessly to outsmart the forces trying to dismantle her government. In every cabinet meeting, what burdens her most are the casualty numbers. As the men talk, Golda constantly steals glances at one of the stenographers, whose son is on the front lines. Making everyone feel seen, heard, and understood was her superpower. With a catastrophic first day of the war, Golda digs her heels in for a long fight.
The film opens with historical vignettes to get the audience up to speed with time, place, and situations. Then we see the Prime Minister in front of a formal committee, where she has no problem lighting a cigarette before explaining decisions that led to mass casualties. The film takes every opportunity to highlight her love of smoke. Even as she receives secret treatments for lymphoma in the hospital morgue, away from the public eye, she puffs away before the treatment begins.
Complimenting the achievements in makeup, “Golda” successfully presents a stressful setting, complete with claustrophobic brown and beige rooms.
Composer Dascha Dauenhauer makes plucking string sounds as if intentionally misplaying the instruments to further the tension. Nattiv succeeds in sustaining the suspense over the leader’s health, the dire situation on the front lines, and the chess match with the U.S. government for the film’s full length.
Unintentionally crafted like a made-for-television procedural drama, “Golda” is at its best when Mirren and Schreiber share scenes. Drawing a line in the sand on the phone or in person, forcing him to eat borscht: These moments demonstrate her strength and cunning nature. While historians might pick at what information is missing from the story— and what is spot on — the average viewer will walk away with a Wikipedia understanding of the story. For all of “The Iron Lady’s” faults and failures as a film, it did include an underlying sense of entertainment and neutrality regarding Margaret Thatcher. “Golda,” comparatively, is as plain as paper, devoid of anything colorful or cheerful, and Nattiv never finds a way to make the subject matter appealing. While it’s unfair to pit “Golda” against “Oppenheimer,” both films are essentially about people in rooms discussing blowing things up — yet one finds a way to be captivating, and the other does not.
Final Thought
The makeup and Mirren’s dedication are not enough to elevate “Golda” beyond a historical film gathering dust in a library.