Cake

Though Jennifer Aniston failed to secure an Oscar nod following a seemingly out-of-nowhere Golden Globe nomination for a film few had heard of, had she made the shortlist, her performance in Cake would have been right at home for her sensitive, touching portrayal of grieving painkiller addict Claire Bennett. Aniston is a revelation after a career spent in schticky rom-coms and forgettable ensemble fare, and any recognition that comes her way will be well deserved, and will hopefully be a step in mainstream acknowledgment of the genuine talent behind the tabloid celebrity.

Unfortunately, the Best Actress nomination would have only further confirmed Cake’s status as Hollywood’s favorite consolation prize for its plethora of talented women who are being denied the same opportunities afforded to men: the performance-driven drama that is less concerned with what’s happening inside the mind of its female lead as it is with what tragedies and tear-jerking challenges are foisted upon her. Male character studies, it seems, are allowed to be interesting entirely on their own, and films about them receive awards in tandem with their leading men. Women, meanwhile, must be subjected to trauma after trauma before their stories become worth telling.

Cake is certainly guilty of this misdeed as it follows Claire on her path to recovery from a number of sloppily revealed ailments. Director Daniel Barnz apparently doesn’t trust his lead character to carry a narrative nor the audience to become invested in her; when things get slow, rather than go somewhere interesting, yet another unresolved issue from Claire’s past is revealed in a scene often capped by a semi-humorous yet bittersweet confrontation with her maid Silvana (the always underappreciated Adriana Barraza). These revelations become increasingly Memento-esque as we peel away Claire’s caustic exterior and parse together her backstory, and it isn’t until over halfway through the film that the reason for her painkiller addiction and aversion to relationships is revealed. Her ensuing fixation on the suicide of a member of her support group (Anna Kendrick) and her widowed husband (Sam Worthington) is Claire’s way of coping with her loneliness and finding solidarity with a family whose life is as fucked up as hers.

The story unfolds in the wrong direction. The result is that Claire’s trauma is treated as a plot twist instead of a crucial element of her pathology, and her character arc is reduced to waiting for people to know more things about her once they’ve run out of things to talk about.

Aniston’s performance shines through some of these issues, as does the film’s brightest spot, Silvana and her relationship with her employer. It is not always successful in steering away from maid-employer tropes, but Silvana is certainly not Claire’s magical, preternaturally wise ethnic savior. She is her own human being who is fully inhabited by Barraza. Glimpses of her backstory and family life are brief but effective. A person like Claire is likely to have a full-time minder, and Silvana’s compulsion to help those around her feels intrinsic to her character rather than functional to the film.

Though its flaws outweigh its perks, Cake’s existence is a good thing for Aniston and for the film world’s view of her. As long as higher-profile projects and award ceremonies ignore the contributions of women, films like it will remain the best place to see Hollywood’s best actresses at work. This may be reason to see and appreciate the film, but audiences and the working women of the entertainment industry deserve better.

Cake (2 1/2) Directed by Daniel Barnz • Starring Jennifer Aniston, Sam Worthington, Anna Kendrick, Adriana Barranza • Rated R • 98 minutes • At Osio Cinemas.