Prophetic in many ways for its key narrative plot point of accusing a man in power (well, a teacher) of sexual assault, Marcos Siega’s (yes, the same director who immortalized many a Blink-182 video) Pretty Persuasion is a study in the calculated ways a high school girl can seek her revenge. In Kimberly Joyce’s (Evan Rachel Wood) case, the serving of a fresh plate of chilled vengeance is, as it should be, a long game.
By all exterior appearances an “angel,” Kimberly’s notorious penchant for manipulation and “adventurous” sex leads one of her teachers, Mr. Nicholl (Danny Comden), to brand her as a devil in a grey skirt (referencing, of course, her schoolgirl uniform). Though Mr. Anderson (Ron Livingston) doesn’t want to believe it–mainly to help himself harbor some very inappropriate fantasies of his own about her innocence–he knows deep down (past the loins) that it’s true. Going so far as to buy a grey skirt for his wife, Grace (Selma Blair), for her birthday and then suggesting she read aloud from a paper that, unbeknownst to Grace, Kimberly wrote about why she deserved to be “punished” via detention.
Mr. Anderson’s overt arousal over the schoolgirl shtick is telling that maybe what he’s about to have coming to him isn’t totally undeserved. In the interim, Kimberly, in her Cher Horowitz (Alicia Silverstone) stead, has taken under her wing a Tai (Brittany Murphy), of sorts, by the name of Randa (Adi Schnall), a new student who “doesn’t say much” and is from the Middle East–though the specific country is never mentioned, which is in keeping with just how little Kimberly and her best friend, Brittany (Elisabeth Harnois)–a hybrid Dionne Davenport (Stacey Dash)/Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert) sidekick–care about anyone but themselves. But Randa serves a purpose, just as Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan) does to Janis Ian (Lizzy Caplan) in seeking retribution for the ills caused to her by Regina George (Rachel McAdams). Treated like more of an accessory than a friend, Kimberly casually remarks to Randa, “I have respect for all races, but I’m very glad that I was born white. As a woman, it’s the best race to be. Especially if you want to become an actress, like I do.”
Like any high school movie worth its salt, this monologue follows a scene in which the protege is introduced to the true ins and outs of the social hierarchy. As Cher does with such statements as, “And that’s the Persian mafia. You can’t hang with them unless you own a BMW” and Janis Ian explaining her hand-drawn map, “You got your freshmen, ROTC guys, preps, JV jocks, Asian nerds, cool Asians, varsity jocks, unfriendly black hotties, girls who eat their feelings, girls who don’t eat anything, desperate wannabes, burnouts, sexually active band geeks, the greatest people you will ever meet and the worst. Beware of The Plastics.”).
In effect, Kimberly’s own rendition of giving the breakdown of the high school ultimately leads to her cold assessment of race. And, as they say, it all starts at home, this racist strain within her. Like her less serpentine counterparts, Cher and Regina (which is saying a lot in terms of the “less serpentine” description), Kimberly also has rather dissociated-from-her-life parents. This much is made evident during a more fucked up re-creation of the “We’re gonna have a nice family dinner” scene from Clueless, in which her father, Hank (James Woods), and close in age stepmother, Kathy (Jaime King), all answer their phones at the same time. Hank’s brusque demeanor, biting comments and workaholic tendencies also make him a more intense, to use understatement, version of Mel Horowitz (Dan Hedaya).
As Regina George did the year before her, Kimberly thought she could get away with being promiscuous while upholding the benefit of her one true steady, Troy (Stark Sands), who isn’t so keen to stay with her once he figures out another guy has ventured into the territory of her backside. When he confronts her about it and she casually asks what the problem is, he snaps, “I don’t take some loser’s sloppy seconds. And I don’t wanna be with some dirty little whore.” So it is that her carefully crafted vengeance is born.
Wielding everyone like, as she calls it, the orchestra to her conducting, Kimberly is a plotter and a strategist just as Cher and Regina are (the former to a much more benign extent), but there is no remorse for her actions. No sudden aura of contriteness when things start getting especially vile. As when all goes according to her strategy and it’s admitted that she, Brittany and Randa have all been lying about Mr. Anderson’s sexual assault. When the local lesbian reporter, Emily (Jane Krakowski), she’s purposefully eaten out confronts her outside of the courthouse to bemoan, “Do you have any idea how many real victims of sexual harassment have just lost all credibility in the public eye? How many are going to be afraid to come forward now? How many people are going to continue to suffer in silence all because of this asinine little stunt you pulled?,” Kimberly aloofly responds, “I don’t know. How many?”
No, she won’t be offering a piece of her endless prom queen crown to everyone in the audience as a means to make up for all her wrongdoings. She won’t be “sucking the poison out of her life” by going to Brittany’s house and trying to make amends with her. She will be taking her notoriety and using it to fulfill her dream of becoming an actress while also achieving the primary intent behind her extremely premeditated game. Because, in the end, “fame is so fleeting… heartbreak is forever.” That it is–and it’s even easier to inflict when you yourself have lost yours. It’s the tradeoff of living a privileged existence in Beverly Hills. Or really just America–as all three high school movies are ultimately a statement on the dangers of succumbing to the oft parodied sins of western culture.
