‘The Eyes Of Tammy Faye’: Jessica Chastain Unlocks Empathy & Redemption For A Televangelist Grifter [TIFF Review]

According to the basic tenets of Christian scripture, all god’s creatures are worthy of judgment-free love. And while the hypocrisy of those words is rarely interrogated in “The Eyes Of Tammy Faye” — the bible belt preachers and communities presented in the film often fail to practice what they preach and are never forced to examine their own accumulation of wealth — these parts of the bible are really not the film’s concern. This is a film about unconditional love. Even for the biggest of clowns.

Directed by Michael Showalter (“The Big Sick,” “The Lovebirds“), “The Eyes Of Tammy Faye,” is a film about the rehabilitation — and perhaps even redemption — of Tammy Faye Bakker, one half of the disgraced televangelist duo Jimmy and Tammy Faye Bakker, who’s PTL Club empire crumbled in the 90s after revelations of fraud. It’s also delivered with a lot of camp, rather than insight or probing into the iniquitous ideas of bilking poor suckers out of their hard-earned money. It’s a questionable choice in 2021, especially given we’re living in the age of grift, deception, untruths, and post-Trump cons. Yet one could abide these sins of omission if “The Eyes of Tammy Faye” wasn’t so generic, shapeless, and unremarkable. What it does boast, however, is a terrific, go-for-broke performance by Jessica Chastain, who manages to engender your sympathy — even while caked under layers of latex, prosthetics and make-up that is as distracting as it is outlandish.

Written by Abe Sylvia, and taking its cues from the documentary of the same name which had the same intent—casting Tammy Faye into a new, more charitable light— like so many broad biopics before it ‘Tammy Faye,’ starts at the beginning: Tammy as a child, disinvited from attending church as she is the shameful product and reminder of divorce. Fast-forwarding to early adulthood, she meets Jim Bakker (Andrew Garfield, miscast, a second wheel largely playing foil to Chastain), at Bible College in Minnesota, and soon they are married, much to the chagrin of her disapproving mother (Cherry Jones).

Soon, via a religious show with puppets that catches on Pat Robertson’s Christian Broadcasting Network, the Bakkers’ star begins to ascend and create the 700 Club. They have the gift of gospel and gab. Eventually, they form the PTL Club (“Praise The Lord”), rise up the ranks, and gain the attention of Jerry Falwell (a dour, condemnatory one-note Vincent D’Onofrio).

Then come the pills, the addictions, the adultery, the controversies, scandals, and requisite fall from grace. Little of it is a surprise, much of it identity-free, aside from the way Tammy Faye buckles convention along the way. A camp and LGBTQ icon, given her grotesque visage, cartoonish mien, and open-heartedness to the gay community—controversial now, but unheard of then—Faye’s progressive empathy is certainly worthy of a kinder reexamination of her legacy. And given she and her husband Jim Bakker were seen as deceivers and swindlers—Bakker was convicted of fraud and sentenced to 45 years in prison—it’s easy to see why the filmmakers might want to revise her story.

But there’s a complicit sense of self-delusion that doesn’t sit right either. “We’re not really doing anything wrong though…” Tammy Faye says at one point to Jim, distress written all over her face, the, “…are we?” ellipsis part of the sentence left to hang in the air unsaid. Or as her mother says, “When you follow god blindly, in the end, all you are is blind.” Subsequently, “Can we talk about Satan later?” is a laugh-out-loud line delivered by Chastain, funny, witty, but also further underscoring the point. “The Eyes Of Tammy Faye” is happy to praise Tammy Faye, but never wants to put her anywhere near accountability.

‘Tammy Faye’ to have its cake and eat it too— soar and sparkle in the glamorous rise to stardom, much of which done in entertaining music montages featuring Chastain’s terrific singing voice—but never really land definitively on whether Tammy Faye knew the dishonest, grift she and her husband were cooking up, despite night after night asking viewers to double their pledge in the name of the lord (many of the glitzy fur coats grew on trees apparently). It’d be one thing if ‘Tammy Faye’ was asking sympathy for its devil, but it never views her as wicked.

Speaking of that voice, Chastain majestically belting it out of the park to ostentatious disco-pop absurdities like “Jesus Keeps On Taking Me Higher And Higher” is entertaining stuff. Showalter certainly has a flair for the bizarre and the ridiculous, but not much beyond that, at least here. Still, the amusing and twisted music segments are where the movie really takes off. It’s nice style and all, but it’s hardly the story itself and the film usually struggles with the dramatic and consequences without Chastain.

Despite the oh gee golly wiz Midwestern yokel-isms and the aforementioned cartoonish makeup she wears—historically accurate, yes, but still bordering on the ludicrous in reality— Chastain manages to bring such dignity to the character, really plumbing the depths of her soul for the moments of pathos, heartbreak, and despair. Much of this comes to an incredible crescendo in the third act, when Tammy Faye is tragic, washed-up, but never willing to give up or radiate compassion, even when she’s being mocked.

And it’s the mild saving grace of the movie, sad and pathetic, yet uplifting and triumphant containing strange multitudes as Tammy sings her heart out to an indifferent crowd. Or is it an ecstatic, euphoric one? Ignorance is bliss, but not if you’re cheating millions in the name of god. The jury is out on whether valiant LGBTQ allyship outweighs the sins of exploiting the masses, and get rich duplicity, as is salvation for the fate of Tammy Faye Bakker’s legacy. Far from a knockout of the park, “The Eyes Of Tammy Faye” is largely free of perceptive revelations, but its conviction that even the most wretched of jesters are worthy of a second chance, can be pretty damn persuasive in the end. [C]

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