“It’s very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present”

I have a very strange relationship with Grey Gardens. Documentary filmmaking has always been a passion of mine, and some of the most profound moments in my life as a film-lover have come from non-fiction filmmaking in various ways. Grey Gardens was the film that demonstrated that a documentary did not necessarily have to have some broad motivation or a very clear purpose, but that it can simple record life. The first time I watched Grey Gardens was over a decade ago, and a recent revisiting proved that this is an astonishing work of documentary filmmaking, an intricate, brilliant example of non-fiction storytelling that may not amount to very much in the traditional sense of films from the era, but rather serves to be “a steadfast celebration of life as it is” – a term often used to describe the work of Diane Arbus. Much like the great photographer herself, Albert and David Maysles were filmmakers who were primarily motivated by anthropological urges to represent existence through minimalistic means, whereby even the most banal and inconsequential moments are repurposed as those of towering beauty and exceptionless brilliance. It is often a disadvantage for a film to carry the burden of being called “the greatest of all time”, because it normally tends to be asserted onto it without much foresight, but when it comes to something like Grey Gardens, which could legitimately make a case for the greatest documentary film ever made, it doesn’t seem inappropriate at all. Quite the contrary: its absolutely accurate, and anyone who has experienced an afternoon with the Beales through this astonishing film will surely lay testament to that.

It is difficult to not love Edith Beale, especially when there’s two of them. “Big Edie” and “Little Edie” were two of the most fabulous women to ever live, and the fact that a film was made that allowed the world to be introduced to them is remarkable. Peripheral members of the large Kennedy dynasty through their familial relationship with Jacqueline Kennedy, they were relatively obscure and had Grey Gardens not been made, they would be nothing other than footnotes in the history of the family. The Maysles Brothers, to their credit, had a penchant for the obscure and the strange, and this certainly feels very much analogous with the subjects of this film, because they don’t get more eccentric than this mother-daughter duo, who occupy the titular mansion, and spend their days engaged in various arbitrary activities, passing the time through dancing, cooking and bickering, and generally just spending their time in the way a frail widow and an eccentric spinster would, where they have become so comfortable in their wealth, there is no need to aspire to anything else. The successes of Grey Gardens reside solely within the relationship between these two women, and how they are such fascinating figures with such bombastic and peculiar temperaments. There is not a moment of subtletly throughout the entire film, because in their isolation, they have started to develop very strange personalities, becoming larger-than-life figures that seem to operate on a very different level to the rest of the world, as well as seeing things in a way very few of us would understand, but would certainly like to, because they possess such an astonishing joie de vivre, it would be difficult to not be captivated by their joyful disposition. These two individuals are tailor-made for the world of camp culture, with their love of excess and endearingly bizarre nature making them amongst the most enigmatic but fascinating characters in the history of cinema – they’re almost too odd to be real, but the fact that they are makes watching this film an even more riveting experience.

They often say truth is stranger than fiction – and nothing exemplifies this more than Grey Gardens. Watching this film is an extraordinary experience, one unlike anything the viewer has ever encountered, mainly because despite being a documentary, there is a certain fantastical element present throughout it. Big Edie and Little Edie seem to exist in a realm well outside of reality, detached from the rest of the world, both physically in terms of their isolation in their decrepit mansion, and emotionally, interacting with very few people and choosing to remain solitary from the world around them. The Maysles Brothers take the opportunity to explore the lives of these two women, allowing us to momentarily venture into their world, becoming a part of it in a way that feels entirely authentic. We are given a brief glimpse into the lives of two women who occupy a certain region on the margins of humanity, who spend their days engaged in the most banal activities, but relishing in their independence to do whatever they like, often even showing off to the camera in a way that shows that while they are isolated individuals, they do know how to put on a show – whether it be Big Edie’s occasional operatic demonstrations, or Little Edie’s now-iconic dance sequence (which she claims took her eight hours of rehearsal), this is a very entertaining film that sometimes ventures into the realm of the utterly absurd, because it becomes almost unbelievable to realize that we are seeing the lives of two real people, rather than heightened performance art. Grey Gardens incites a range of emotions in the viewer, who can’t decide whether to feel amusement or sympathy for these women, who are clearly oblivious to the way their lifestyle comes across to outsiders. Yet, perhaps they do know and are just at the point where they are liberated from social standards and are just living out their final years in a way that suits them. It isn’t uncommon to find judgment asserted onto these people based on the way they live – but you can never accuse them of not being happy.

A pivotal concept that is extremely important in understanding Grey Gardens is one concealed in the quote used at the beginning of this review. Towards the beginning of the film, Little Edie mentions how “it’s very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present” – and whether intentional or not, this is a part of the film that helps tie everything together and gives it some nuance. Big Edie and Little Edie are two women who are clearly happy with their lives, at least on the surface. Their existence is simple and suits their needs. Yet, they’re also two women who are trapped in the past. Big Edie is frail and clearly nearing the end of her life – yet, she seems to believe herself to be the same charming young socialite she was when she first entered into the world of affluence that she would later depend entirely upon to support her extravagant lifestyle. Little Edie is not quite there yet, but she is also someone who is far too concerned with looking at the past – many conversations in this films see the mother and daughter discussing (and occasionally bickering) over some inconsequential aspect of the past – failed marriages, broken friendships and missed opportunities seem to be the only topic of conversation that seems to evoke any real reaction in either of these women, who are oblivious to the present, delusional about the future (Little Edie’s determination to leave Grey Gardens forever and become a star is an essential part of the film, as well as being amongst the most heartbreaking, when we realize the likelihood that with her mindset, she isn’t likely to amount to anything other than being a social curiosity). The past impinges on the present in a way that is truly unsettling in Grey Gardens – their beautiful mansion has become a representation of their lifestyle, overgrown and deteriorating into something almost unrecognizable. There could even be a case made for the focus on the mansion being an allegory for the women themselves – a relic of a time and place that has slowly started to decay through neglect and disregard.

Grey Gardens is a very different documentary from what was normally made at the time. These kinds of non-fiction films are a lot more common nowadays, and understandably so, because reality television has made exploring the everyday lives of ordinary people almost chic. Yet, the Maysles Brothers presented us with a revolutionary form of non-fiction storytelling that was unique for its period. This is not a film created with the intention of telling some broader tale, as there isn’t anything in particularly special about this story – but that was part and parcel for the directors’ style, as they demonstrated throughout their entire career a tendency to look for oddballs and people on the margins of society, or those who fade into the background rather than being particularly noteworthy on their own terms. Arguably, Grey Gardens would not have been made had the two main individuals depicted not been related to the affluent Bouvier family (rumours have always abounded that this film was almost accidental, as the brothers were doing research into another member of the family before stumbling across Big Edie and Little Edie), but mercifully they were discovered, and the result was something quite special. The film never reaches any discernible point – it begins in media res and shows us the lives of these two women over the course of a few months, as the brothers document some of their routines, and film discussions where they talk about themselves, each other and the past. Grey Gardens is just a series of moments, a brief snapshot into the lives of a pair of very unconventional women, whereby the audience is invited to peer into their daily activities in a way that is almost voyeuristic but never perversely so. Very few films offer such intricate and intimate access into reality, and the pauciloquent nature of the filmmakers often makes us forget that we are watching a film, and not just peering into a pair of extraordinary lives.

The period in which the brothers made this film saw the beginning of what came to be known as the cinéma vérité method of filmmaking – metanarratives were abandoned in favour of reality, and the belief was that seeing life represented in all its eccentric minutiae would be more than enough to enthral audiences – fiction can only go so far, and there is something about the Maysles’ style that speaks to a broader truth, and makes for even more enthralling viewing. Grey Gardens was certainly not a film that could’ve been particularly easy to make – ethically, it was somewhat ambigious, and there are allegations of exploitation levelled against this film from time to time, especially from those who feel the invasion of privacy into the lives of two women just living their lives. Some could say that they weren’t entirely sure of what was being filmed – it isn’t even clear if they were fully mentally-capable, especially Big Edie, who seems to be showing some signs of mental decay in her old age. Yet, for every criticism that this film exploited these two women for entertainment value, there is a proponing voice that advocates for its importance. There are numerous meanings and concepts embedded deeply within this film, and the impact Grey Gardens has on non-fiction filmmaking is almost unprecedented. Suddenly, there was no need for overarching stories, and minimalism was now not only allowed but also actively encouraged. Its a film about two individuals just living their lives, and not much more. There’s nothing really this film says in terms of the content that can be considered particularly unique, but the fact that this film was made is in itself revolutionary, because it was one of the catalysts for an entirely new form of non-fiction filmmaking, where the only purpose was to represent life in the most concise and direct way as possible.

There is a reason Grey Gardens is viewed as one of the greatest documentary films ever made. It is a hilarious, irreverent and very often deeply tender exploration of a mother-daughter relationship, where we are introduced to a couple of women that are unlike anything ever represented on screen. Their characterization is the key to the success of the film because without them, this film would just be an entirely unremarkable chronicle of a decrepit mansion, which is dying around them, yet they keep it lively through their unconventionally energetic personalities. It is almost a magical journey into the lives of Big Edie and Little Edie, an adventures into an otherworldly realm, where the logic of normal human behaviour is disregarded for some form of intimate social anarchy, where nothing seems to make sense – there appears to be a process every new viewer experiences when watching Grey Gardens for the first time: bewilderment at the way these women live, followed by frustration at how they continuously disregard decency because of their own stubbornness, and then finally adoration from being given the opportunity to rendezvous very closely with these women and experience life from their perspective, even if only for ninety minutes. Thrilling, heartwarming and fascinating in every way, Grey Gardens is a simple but effective portrayal of life and its idiosyncrasies, with two of history’s most lovable eccentrics at the core. Grey Gardens is a singularly impressive achievement, but an even more remarkable piece of social storytelling that never wavers from its incredible dedication to depicting the human condition in a way that is intimate in scope, universal in resonance, and just unquestionably memorable.