I Care a Lot (2021)

 Score: 4.5 / 5

Spoiler alert: Marla Grayson doesn't care.

Marla Grayson cares about her clients. She cares about getting lonely, elderly folk into nursing homes. Working closely with a doctor friend who can help her identify well-off patients on the brink of dementia, Marla petitions the court for an order asserting the patients can no longer care for themselves. Acting as the new legal guardian, she spirits her wards away to a nursing home whose manager is also working in tandem with Marla. Meanwhile, as guardian, Marla can siphon away every penny from her charge, leaving the infirm destitute and any remaining family or friends at arm's length.

Marla Grayson cares about her peers. Dr. Karen Amos (Alicia Witt) takes care of the first steps, and manager Sam Rice (Damian Young) does most of the heavy lifting -- via his staff, of course. And there's Marla's partner in business and in love, Fran (Eiza Gonzalez), who researches the potential wards to make sure there aren't any troublesome kids or spouses and that there is in fact a nest egg in store. The movie begins with another success story for Marla, as the court -- headed by a friendly and naive judge (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) -- denies a challenge to her guardianship. Shortly after, though, the ward dies, and the unexpected vacancy leads Marla to make a rather quick decision.

Marla Grayson cares about money. Her doctor friend recommends Jennifer Peterson (Dianne Wiest), a "cherry" as the vampiric women put it. She has no known family and she has a lot of money. Marla seems to be little more than the epitome of avarice, an entrepreneur who pirates booty out of people to dim to stop her and from a system too corrupt to save. She points out more than once that her methods are, largely, quite legal, implying that she's simply using the tools given to her by a culture of greed, misogyny, and ageism (it's interesting that her lesbian identity is never an issue in this movie). Despite her apparently passionate defense of her behavior to the judge early in the film, when her ward dies, she smoothly pulls her picture off the wall and trashes it without so much as a blink. Pike's cold, bitchy excellence is dazzling to behold in even these briefest of moments.

Marla Grayson cares about her appearance. Played to utter perfection by Rosamund Pike and her full star-power glory, the character is a vampire in broad daylight and light, monochromatic suits. Often shielded by oversized sunglasses, her sassy blonde bob, and smoke from her large vape pen, she nevertheless is always on the offensive, calculating her next move and searching for vulnerability. My favorite scene of hers is when Jennifer Peterson's dubious lawyer (Chris Messina) shows up, looking phenomenal in many-piece suits of vibrant hues, and the two square off in her office. It's a deadly game wherein two sociopaths slowly rip through the constraints of politeness. It's wicked fun, and the movie never quite recovers from it. At least, not in terms of performances; from here out, it's all about the plot.

Marla Grayson cares about control. She controls her clients, manipulates her fellow conspirators, and even the movie itself. From the start, we're put tightly in her headspace for most of the movie, even subjected at the beginning and end to her voiceover, a cold and ruthless diatribe about the nature of fairness in a world that has never been fair to her. But this isn't a revenge story; at least, it's not hers. Because before long, strangers start showing up looking for Jennifer Peterson. Large men attempt to break her out of the care facility. Her lawyer materializes, though he has no proof of being her lawyer. And when something terrible happens to Dr. Amos, Marla and Fran realize too late that they've finally targeted the wrong "cherry." Dianne Wiest, known for her idiosyncratic lilting voice and sickly sweet mannerisms, shifts into a terrifying creature eager for vengeance; she's a Lear raging against the ties that bind, but the difference is that she has hope of her own deliverance. "He's coming for you," she giggles darkly through blurry eyes in the nursing home, even as Marla determines to torture her in the meantime.

Marla Grayson cares about herself. And so, when Fran tries to downplay the imminent threat caused by Jennifer and the men looking for her -- I won't tell you who or why, because it's an absolute delight when it happens -- Marla rebukes her naiveté. "Don't get fooled by old people. Even sadistic, immoral assholes get old." One wonders what will become of Marla when she ages. Then again, she may not. The film begins with a cool, stylish air of pitch-black comedy, a satire of society and money and age plastered with vivid colors and underscored by synth-music that wouldn't be out of place in a John Carpenter movie from the '80s. But by about the halfway point, things get a lot darker and almost all of the comedy drops out, leaving a crime thriller that doesn't thrill so much as titillate. We watch with morbid interest as the chase becomes a standoff and the players seek the upper hand in brutality.

In the end, Marla must face an enemy she never expected, and decides that she wants to live. But her ability to care about most of the things that were so important to her before slip from her grasp. So, much as our former first lady declared to the world, "I really don't care, do u?" Marla Grayson, as we've established, doesn't care. She just wants. And it's as satisfying as it is terrifying.