THE STORY – The film covers the breadth of her extraordinary life through intimate interviews with Stewart herself, who opened up her personal archives to share never-before-seen photos, letters, and diary entries.
THE CAST – Martha Stewart
THE TEAM – R.J. Cutler (Director/Producer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 114 Minutes
Whether it’s because she’s making history as the first female self-made billionaire in America, going to prison for tax fraud, or lighting up with Snoop Dogg, it’s difficult to think of the last time Martha Stewart wasn’t in the pop culture conversation. Since the release of her first book “Entertaining” in 1982, Stewart has been a fixture in millions of homes, if something of an enigmatic one. “Martha” is an appropriately frank, unflinching examination of its eponymous subject, painting an (at times) unflattering, multifaceted portrait of an American icon.
Directed and produced by R.J. Cutler (“Belushi,” “Billie Eilish: The World’s A Little Blurry”), “Martha“ takes a traditional, chronological approach to unpacking Stewart’s life, combining archival footage, letters, and diary entries with extensive interview footage to follow Stewart’s journey from working-class New Jersey girl to lifestyle juggernaut. But while “Martha’s” stylistic sensibilities (or perhaps lack thereof) don’t make for a particularly riveting sensory or narrative experience, Cutler has an ace up his sleeve: Stewart herself.
Though the name “Martha Stewart“ has since become synonymous with ideas of tidy homes and pleasantly perfect gardens, Martha Stewart the woman has a decidedly messier, more salacious reputation. “Martha“ is a shrewd acknowledgment of the strange space Stewart occupies in pop culture as both a trusted source for lifestyle advice and a seemingly non-stop target for vitriol and ridicule.
Whether dissecting her looks, her personality, her career, or her marriage, Stewart’s personal life and tabloid history are almost as prolific as her dominance in the kitchen, and at long last, in “Martha,“ Cutler gives Stewart the platform to acknowledge and add her voice to the narrative being crafted around America’s most famous homemaker. Thankfully, “Martha“ is not a documentary setting out to right perceived wrongs or perform image rehab on Stewart’s reputation – far from it.
In “Martha,“ Stewart is almost startingly frank and open about her past, unafraid of recounting moments of extreme passion or volatility that put her in a less than flattering light — either that or Stewart simply has no hang-ups about the anecdotes she’s sharing. The rose-tinted glasses with which she viewed her father’s physical and verbal abuse of her and her siblings and how it was that abuse that sparked her lifelong affinity for gardening were early, insightful inclusions from Cutler that fill in between the lines of Stewart’s famously demanding persona.
Similarly, the casual way in which Stewart discusses enduring routine workplace harassment as the only female stockbroker on Wall Street in the 80s is dually horrifying and astonishing, even more so for how she simply laughs the ordeal off and moves on when asked directly. There’s a cruel irony that in monetizing homemaking — finding a way to combine the woman’s spheres of work/home seemingly — Stewart has been continually subjected to rampant misogyny both in and outside of the workplace.
“Martha“ also doesn’t shy away from chronicling the many scandals that have plagued Stewart’s career, and though the account of her legal troubles and brief prison stint isn’t particularly revelatory, Stewart is remarkably candid about another area of her life: romance. Using a combination of interview footage and narrated letters, “Martha“ paints a vivid picture of her tumultuous, decades-long marriage to publishing giant Andrew Stewart — notably, the string of affairs that continuously plagued their relationship.
Whether recounting a clandestine kiss with a stranger at a cathedral or the fact that she was pulling her hair out in clumps by the end of her marriage, Stewart reflects on her past with a disconnected chilliness that’s often at ease with the true gravity of the situation. Though she’s more than willing to share the cold, hard facts, Stewart clams up when pressed about how a betrayal or a media smear made her feel.
Especially when intercut with decidedly more earnest testimony from her siblings, employees, and children, Stewart’s reluctance to offer vulnerability, even when discussing objectively troubling topics, is often when “Martha’s” filmmaking is most effective. However frustrating Stewart’s opacity may be, her lack of verbosity makes it much simpler for Cutler to highlight the double-edged sword that is nearly lifelong fame of Stewart’s caliber.
Though the filmmaking may be relatively unremarkable and Stewart sometimes taciturn in her interviews, “Martha“ is all-encompassing and unflinching. It’s a bold, bracing documentary that’s valuable as both an insight into Stewart’s life and a larger examination of the evolving idea of American women in the home.
