Review: Beatriz at Dinner — That Ending, I Want to Talk About It!

Without spoilers, I could talk about Salma Hayek's deft acting, from her thoughtful expressions of serene openness and curiosity to the angry twitch beneath her eye. Or, I could compare this quiet film which takes place over the course of a dinner to My Dinner With Andre.

The problem is I left the theatre stunned by the ending. So that's what I want to talk about.

I was curious about this film after watching the trailer, but decided I had to see it after listening to Mariann Sullivan and film critic Noah Gitell talk about it on the Our Hen House podcast. The film was written by Mike White.

It was excellent to see a vegan protagonist on screen. Beatriz herself never mentions her dietary choices and is described as "vegetarian" by another character, but there are a number of tells (her rescued goats and, funnily, how at dessert she is offered sorbet — vegetarians can usually eat any dessert, but only vegans get offered the default dairy and egg-free sorbet). Her ethics are apparent.

The movie is not about veganism, but it is certainly about living an ethical lifestyle outside of social norms. Beatriz' experience of negotiating ethical differences in a social setting will be familiar to any vegan — from listening to compliments of "buttery salmon" to hearing a man brag about his upcoming trophy hunting expedition. She navigates this difficult terrain with a variety of tactics and varying levels of confrontation ranging from placid to piqued to peeved.

But Beatriz' situation is extreme. She's a massage therapist who accidentally finds herself invited to a dinner where she suspects the honored guest, a wealthy developer, is the same man whose hotel development destroyed her hometown in Mexico. Where he sees pleasure, she sees destruction. Tension between Beatriz, the hosts, the other guests and the guest of honor escalates throughout the dinner. Beatriz' perspective discomfits the other guests and their lack of conscience horrifies her.

I loved the subtleties of the acting and was enjoying seeing these dynamics portrayed on film up until the ending.

Beatriz explodes in anger and is finally asked to leave the party. The movie offers two endings: a fantasy one in which Beatriz imagines herself returning to the party and stabbing the evil man in the neck with a letter opener and then the real one in which she leaves the party and walks into the sea.

I left the theatre profoundly disturbed by how the film resolved Beatriz' conflict — apparent suicide. It has been such a sad year. Sometimes, it does feel like I am walking around with rocks in my pockets. Nihilism may be a valid emotional response, but is it this our answer to despair? Was this the writer's intent? My husband and I talked through our discomfort with this ending, asking:

Which ending was more satisfying? While it was definitely more satisfying to see Beatriz take direct action against the man as it released the building tension, it also created more questions. Certainly, the aftermath of the brutal murder would not go well for Beatriz. 

Was this what she would do? Neither ending offered rung true to character. Although the murder could be seen as justifiable, even justice, considering how the man unthinkingly took other lives, Beatriz was not a killer. She was a healer applying her gift of compassionate touch to help cancer patients. However, despairing, it also did not make sense that she would take her own life. She worked with dying people who value life poignantly and would not abandon her animals. It was also evident that she was a patient healer invested in longterm solutions.

How else could this film have ended?Although this kind of ending might have felt too pat, I wanted Beatriz, thrust into close proximity with the notorious man, to find some evidence or information that could expose or harm him politically and to give this to other activists. What Beatriz seemed most likely to actually do in this scenario was to simply resist and persist. She would have continued to do what she was doing and perhaps have been more of an activist. I could imagine her in later scenes protesting developments, talking to her representatives and writing newspaper editorials. Over time, her presence might have caused others to reflect on their views and perhaps slowly influenced them. However, a movie demands a quick resolution. It has no time for decades of unfolding and slow progress.

Eventually, I made peace with the ending, deciding that it was meant to raise discussion and arrive at, perhaps, just my conclusion — we must persist and resist (the stuff of histories not scenes). I want to recommend this movie to activist friends (Jasmin Singer called this movie an animal rights manifesto), but I am reluctant due to its hopeless conclusion.

While Beatriz walks into the sea (for cleansing, for annihilation?), the wealthy, unconscientious people gleefully send lanterns aloft. They joke that the beautiful toys could light their neighbors' homes on fire, but remain uncaring. They have the protection of the law on their side. They are living in the moment for their own pleasure with no thought for the harms done to others. This is not by accident, but by choice.

Beatriz, an unwelcome guest, reminds them of differing views and unpleasant realities, “all your pleasures are built on others’ pain" that invade their peace — but her views cannot, in the paradigm of their superiority, destroy it. Whether Beatriz walks into the sea or not makes no difference to them.