2010's Catch-Up: Tangerine (5/16/2020)

For those who don't know me personally, I'm a bit of a gossip. I don't like spreading rumors or otherwise hurting others, but I do enjoy hearing about other people's drama from time to time. There's a sort of perverse amusement to be gained from sitting on the sidelines to other people's beef, and the more overwrought and ridiculous it is the more entertaining.

Tangerine is the perfect summarization of that enjoyment in film form. Watching it is like listening to your friend spewing gossip about a ridiculous bout of drama that broke out amongst mutual friends in extraordinarily detailed fashion. As much as they may sound boring to some people, it's a highly entertaining and sensational comedy from start to finish, throwing its characters from one ridiculous and overly dramatic scenario to the other, as one of its two leads tries desperately to keep things in control while the other seems to be doing everything in her power to start shit.

The plot follows a black transgender sex worker named Sin-Dee Rella on the streets of Los Angeles who's released after a 28 day stint in prison. Upon returning to the streets, she immediately learns that her pimp boyfriend was cheating on her. She then goes on a one-woman crusade across Los Angeles, dragging her friend Alexandra in her wake and wreaking havoc everywhere she goes until she finally corners her boyfriend and the woman he cheated with, and dragging everyone else haplessly along behind her in the meantime. The drama and humor eventually escalate like a particularly hyper-charged episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but mixed with the energy and aesthetic of an LA drag show.

There's a lot of pulpy, lurid elements on display here - sex, drugs, prostitution, even some violence - but what really sets it apart from other stories of its ilk (especially the aforemented It's Always Sunny) is the sense of realism that underlies the absurdity. As over the top as some of the antics Sin-Dee gets up to are, the film never lets go of the actual struggles going on within. Black transgender sex workers are some of the most marginalized and voiceless people in our society; constantly being threatened with the possibilty of violence and harassment. Even though the movie only sometimes showcases these attitudes, there's this underlying feeling that in every person is the threat of mockery or even violence. There's something personal about her quest that goes deeper than just a scorned lover; she seems perpetually worried that nobody will ever love her for the person she truly is, and she'll forever be seen as nothing but either a freak or a sex object for particularly perverted men. It's in its quieter moments, when Tangerine allows its antics to cool down in favor of slower, character building moments that this film puts these aspects on display, pushing it over the edge from just a funny comedy to an actual good film.

Throughout, the film shows other characters, many of which do bad things, but almost none of which are truly judged. It's really up to the audience to decide whether they're right or wrong; as far as the film is concerned, they're all just people who were left behind by the world and told that they don't belong, trying to reach out and find something to hold on to. The direction by Sean Baker - who would eventually go on to make his name with the wildly acclaimed The Florida Project - made a lot of waves by taking the unprecedented route of filming everything with an iPhone 5. It was a decision that was sensationalized at the time, but taking a step back it makes sense. It makes everything feel just a bit more real, which heightens the absurd drama to reality-TV proportions while also making the quieter moments feel almost documentarian. The real star of the show, though, is the performers Mya Taylor and Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, bringing a sense of authenticity to their characters and a fresh voice to cinema in general. It's so rare that a film helmed by cisgender or white people (and Sean Baker is a white, cisgender man) gets the experiences of these demographics right, and because of how much Taylor and Rodriguez are allowed to express their voices in this film, this is one of those rare occassions.

Tangerine is a wildly entertaining piece of pulp comedy, but beneath its extravagant reality TV aesthetics, there's a real beating heart that extends its hand out in empathy towards an otherwise voiceless group of people. It's not likely to win everyone over, but it's a landmark in independent film of the past decade nonetheless.

Check out my 2010s Catch-Up Scorecard!