Friday's Old Fashioned: Ruby in Paradise (1993)

Victor Nunez’s Ruby in Paradise (1993), bearer of Ashley Judd’s greatest performance, long unavailable outside a sketchy YouTube upload and other suboptimal means, has been re-released by Quiver Distribution, bless their souls, in high definition master to rent or to buy through various digital platforms and virtual cinemas. This is truly wonderful news. Perhaps Criterion could be next? In its honor, here is our 4-year old review of it, a Friday’s Old Fashioned second round. Then go watch it. 

“Ruby in Paradise” opens with Ruby Lee Gessing (Ashley Judd) fleeing her abusive partner in Tennessee by driving south, disappearing into the darkness as she does, before re-emerging in the light of Florida’s panhandle where she seeks to change her life. Life changes at the cinema often come about because of Big or Unplanned Events pulsing with readymade drama, and some movies do fine jobs of illustrating such transformations. But life just as often changes without capital letters, taking place quietly, by accumulating experiences and then allowing time for those experiences to be considered and put into context. Victor Nunez renders such a subtle transformation in “Ruby in Paradise” by simply observing Ruby as she spruces up her dingy living quarters, performs the menial tasks required at the tourist shop where she works, meets new people, learns from each of these seemingly underwhelming events, lessons she writes downs. Those lessons, befitting the cheap spiral notebook in which she pens them, are more functional than grandiose. 

Ruby comes to Florida because the lone good memory she clings to is a family vacation there, a fanciful notion that “Ruby in Paradise”, with its grimy yet hopeful air, both laughs at and embraces. Nunez gives her moments to stand on the beach, feet in the water, shimmering in the sunset, but he also counteracts these moments with all manner of mundane strip malls not far from the sand, and the shop where Ruby works, which, save for some tropical trinkets, could be anywhere. And that Ruby arrives in the off season, while a means to give her a little extra soul-searching time, illustrates a Florida away from the lull of tourism, where everyday locals work low wage jobs, an economic reality that comes through even clearer when Ruby briefly loses her position at the souvenir shop and finds work in an industrial laundry. During the latter, Ruby goes through the grueling motions, fighting to stay present, which her co-workers, seen laughing both on the job and off it, stress as being of the utmost importance, suggesting a life of such labor can drain all the life from you, a frightening proposition that “Ruby in Paradise” suggests might be the worst fate of all.

It’s also telling that at this job, like her job at the tourist shop, Ruby is principally surrounded by women. This is not just a movie told from an economically poor vantage point, but the from a woman’s point-of-view too. Sure, Ruby finds herself in the company of men too, like the shop owner’s son, a semi-smooth talking lout, a broad performance by Bentley Mitchum that is the movie’s primary weak point. Even so, it makes sense that Ruby would go down that road, reverting to previous behavior, like it’s been ingrained all her life, and ultimately reminding her she came here to break free. Her relationship with Mike (Todd Field) is more pleasant, because he at least treats her well and introduces her to new things, though cracks emerge there too, as he proves to be a pessimist by nature about nature, who loves the land but can only see the bad being done. Even more, though, his ideas of a relationship skew conservative, which is what eventually turns Ruby away, when he tells her “I’ll take care good of you” and she replies “Every girl’s dream” with the sort of voice that lets you know it damn sure isn’t.

In a movie where so little happens, in a traditional sense, where the journey is one principally taking place inwardly, the lead actress becomes paramount in propping up the production, and Judd, in her first feature film role, is up to the task. Consider a downturn for Ruby, stuck between jobs, when Nunez presents her with a momentary ray of light in the form of a piece of pie brought over by a neighbor. In the moment that Ruby eats her dessert for dinner, Judd does not overplay, refraining from some exaggerated “mmmmm” or some such, knowing the emotion is construed via the scene’s context and that all she needs to do is exist within it. With many of her character’s thoughts relayed in voiceover, Judd gives them not the ring of cemented truth but food for thought. And though Ruby assumes a determined air in applying for her first job, most elsewhere Judd is content to let her listen, and let you see her listening, and then sizing up what was said and deciding for herself. Movies so often insistently impress change upon their characters with external events whereas Judd pulls the niftiest actor trick of all – she lets you see how the change comes from within.

Big Stone Gap

“Big Stone Gap”, which was written and directed by Adriana Trigiani, based on her book of the same name, opens with a voiceover by Ave Maria Mulligan (Ashley Judd) enlightening us to the particular qualities and quirks of the titular coal mining town in the mountains of Virginia where she grew up. And though she’s referring to her childhood in the 50’s, when the movie flashes forward twenty years a few moments later, hardly anything seems to have changed from what Ave Maria has just described, as if here in Big Stone Gap the 50’s just kind of blended with the 60’s which just kind of mixed with the 70’s. Why they continue putting on the very same play, The Trail of the Lonesome Pine, they have always put on, as if any modification of the past by send the populace reeling. I mean, would it kill these people to try “Our Town”? Just once?! This lends a frozen-in-time feel, one that could easily come on like nostalgia, the a syrupy sensation that there is no place like home, and while that is there in doses, it is tempered by Ave Maria herself, a character who mostly defies the sugary confection by fearing that in all those years that passed from the voiceover to now, life itself has passed her by.

Ashley Judd is incredibly equipped to play these sorts of roles, vacillating between genuine joy and understated melancholy with the greatest of ease, often within the same scene, occasionally within the same moment, like the instance when she’s eating cake while standing up, listening and half trying to ignore another person spouting twaddle while taking great comfort in just snacking on that chocolate dessert. It’s sort of her entire state of being in capsule; having to shut out so much nonsense swirling around her, finding resolve from within, or in a plate of calories, of which there seem to be an awful lot. After all, she’s forty year olds and – egads! – not married. This, however, is more a concern of the town folk than the screenplay itself, which gives Ave Maria the willingness to fight back against that sort of Hallmark Channel hogwash. At one point, in fact, Ave Maria is referred to as Mount Vesuvius, standing there placidly, yet waiting to erupt, that eruption spurred by all the gossip pertaining to her relationship status. Often in Judd’s eyes you can see that eruption brewing. The question is, will it come?

Eh, yes and no. Much of the plot hinges on her friendship with Jack (Patrick Wilson), the local coal-mining hunk with solid sideburns, who clearly loves her, but hitches himself to Sweet Sue (Jane Krakowski) instead even though she’s clearly wrong for him and knows it, while Ave Maria hitches herself to Theodore Tipton (John Benjamin Hickey) even though he’s wrong for her and she knows it. Still, this isn’t a case of simple Idiot Plot, the characters having to wear invisible blinders to the truth, He wants the simple life that Big Stone Gap offers, which he sees in Sweet Sue and not Ave Maria, because Ave Maria is clearly itching for something else, and has been for a long time. Home Is Where The Heart Is, and All That Jazz, but sometimes you still have to Go Walkabout, and “Big Stone Gap”, for all its easy-bake storytelling, still has the gumption to know that Ave Maria is not the kind of character who would fall into the conventional narrative trap of sticking to the path rather than wandering into the deep, dark forest.

At least, it seems like it does, which is where “Big Stone Gap” goes off the rails. Though the film is set in coalmine country, you never really the soot on the faces of the miners, just as the one mine “incident” is less about the inherent dangers of that perilous industry than a drawn out excuse to put Ave Maria and Jack together. And this is fine, of course, because “Big Stone Gap” isn’t “North Country”; it’s a warm-hearted romance, one made with so much granulated sugar, food coloring and flavor extract, but still. And yet, this setting, which emits a sense of “place” in the early-going, begins to feel more and more staged as the film progresses, especially as all the characters around Ave Maria suddenly begin pulling strings in order to prevent what she seems to so desperately want. By the end, when everyone gathers in the town ampitheater, determined to keep Ave Maria right where she is, Big Stone Gap felt more like Seahaven, and I began to fear that Ave Maria was simply starring in her own version of The Truman Show.

Top 5 Favorite Ashley Judd Performances

To my mind, Ashley Judd has long been both an undervalued actress and overly viewed in the wrong light. For instance, in the wake of her recent appearance in “Divergent”, the site Hitfix listed the “good” and “bad” of the film and declared one of the “good” details to be…”Ashley Judd (having) a gun.” “Excuse me,” they opine, “but did I just have an early '00s Ashley Judd flashback? Did ‘Divergent’ turn into ‘Triple Jeopardy’ in the third act? I must not have been the only one who smiled when Judd's character unexpectedly kicks some ass as there were reports of cheers at the Los Angeles all-media press screening.”

That made me think of my blogging friend Vance’s comments at the conclusion of my long-winded essay regarding Emma Watson’s brilliant “This Is The End” cameo. He said: “I do almost feel like Hollywood's only idea about what to do with women these days is to make them badasses.” And continued: “On the surface, it's empowering -- see, this woman can kick ass just like, or better than, the guys. But without character development of said woman, it's just as objectifying in its own way.” I thought a lot about that comment, so much, in fact, that I failed to reply, because I could not quite figure out what I wished my reply to be. Until I saw that comment on Hitfix.

Now don’t get me wrong, Judd as badass is a wonderful thing, but the wonderful moment to which they refer in “Divergent” goes far beyond Judd simply having a gun. It’s a Mother demonstrating all-consuming love for the Daughter, just in an unconventional, ass-kicking way. It’s really quite beautiful. And despite the noise of the scene, Judd does not force the sequence’s subtext, simply playing it as an Everyday Heroic Mother in an Extraordinary Situation.

The misconception in pop culture is that Ms. Judd stars in all the Morgan Freeman movies. In fact, she and Freeman have starred in three (“Kiss the Girls”, “High Crimes”, “Dolphin Tale”). And woven into the DNA of the Morgan Freeman Misconception is also the misconception that Judd is at her best kicking ass and perhaps taking names, or perhaps not, when her chops as a dramatist are under-utilized and underrated. No longer. Today, Cinema Romantico, a longtime Ashley Judd fan, reveals its Top 5 Ashley Judd Performances.

Top 5 Favorite Ashley Judd Performances

Charlene Shiherlis, Heat 

As the wife of Val Kilmer’s “gambling junkie” Judd does not get much screen time but plays a vital role, and plays it raw and quietly unforgiving and in such a way as to not tip her hand until the very end what she truly feels toward her husband. When she does reveal what she truly feels, she reveals it in a drawn-breath of anguish, waving him away from a balcony, demonstrating in a split-second the ties – however painful – that bind. Yet, there is another moment here, a moment of the blink-and-you-might-miss-it variety. Michael Mann made this movie and he is known very much for his sleek doses of masculine adrenaline. I also think he is simultaneously and secretly a feminist. And this comes across when Robert DeNiro’s Neil spies Judd’s Charlene with another man, confronts her and then issues orders. Literal orders. “You will give Chris another chance.” Judd’s reply comes entirely via facial expression, cutting right through all Bobby D’s macho posturing. It’s an expression that says: “Can you BELIEVE this dumbass?”

Kitty, The Locusts

The part is essentially problematic, the requisite small-town beauty with whom Vince Vaughn’s drifter must fall in love so she can cure what ails him with her selfless love. Still, she suggests a depth beyond the confines of the screen, a character with an existence apart from the primary storyline but willing to wade into the muck of the protagonist’s life because she can see the good in him and that life experience has taught her to value the good. It is never more apparent than in a scene between her and Flyboy (Jeremy Davies), fresh out of the mental institution, whom Vaughn has befriended, in which the two share a dance. "Thank you for the date,” Kitty says. “It was the best one I ever had.'' It’s not simply sweet – it’s genuine. It drips in genuineness. It’s a line spoken by a woman who might have taken Lloyd Dobler’s advice to “decide to be in a good mood” and run with it forever and ever. It will make you smile. It will break your goddam heart.

Ruby Lee Gissing, Ruby In Paradise

Victor Nunez’s film of wondrous patience is sort of a slice of Floridian Neo-Realism, Judd’s Ruby fleeing Tennessee for Florida and attempting to begin anew. This was essentially Judd’s first film role – that is, if you don’t count her immortal turn as “Wife Of Paint Store Owner” in “Kuffs” – which makes the turn that much more impressive because she never resorts to grandstanding to, as they say, make her reel. What’s the other saying? Ah yes. Still Waters Run Deep. Judd’s Ruby is the living, breathing essence of that phrase, and that, I think, is her greatest gift as an actress – outwardly placid, inwardly emotional. In other words, she can ably evoke introversion which, as an introvert, is likely what endears her to me so much. Ruby Lee Gissing is one of the greatest screen introverts, and Judd gets across how every story detail, every character interaction takes her on the path toward the first step to becoming who she wants to be. It sounds simple. It’s anything but. (Psssssssssst.....you can watch the full film here. And you should totally do it.)

Agnes White, Bug

Playing opposite the incomparable Michael Shannon at his Shannon-est is an arduous task but Judd is up to it, and she is up to because she does not so much attempt to mimic or match his manic energy as cultivate her own sense of longing desperation. Her character, holed up in a motel, depressed over the five year disappearance of her son, has more or less surrendered to life until Shannon’s drifter shows up and immediately begins talking crazy of some bug infestation. If Shannon always seems unhinged, we are less certain about Judd, and what has always stayed with me about her performance is how she turns Agnes’s psychosis into a release. The final act of madness, God help me, is as peaceful as it is terrifying.

Lucy Fowler, Come Early Morning

In a sense, this is a variation of her role in “Ruby In Paradise”, exchanging Florida for Arkansas, but whereas Ruby was hopeful, Lucy marinates in bitterness and easygoing self-destruction. In fact, it’s almost what might have happened to Ruby had she not escaped Tennessee – the way a place and the people, the same people, over and over, can subtly wear a person down and leave him or her mired in a rut of which they may not even be completely aware. She reaches out to her attempting-to-make-amends father, sort of, but won’t really reach out to anyone else. And even when she starts to as the film progresses, there is a defensiveness, an edginess, and it’s crucial. Empathy isn’t necessarily on Judd’s mind, which is a choice I always respect in the right context, and instead she’s like a woman trying to battering ram her way to self-actualization. It’s introspection without a real introspective character. She gets somewhere by the end, but Judd shows how that journey can be a crawl, and as frustrating as fulfilling.

Asking Out Iowa's Ashley Judd

Ashley Judd is best known cinematically for her dramatic work in films like “Ruby In Paradise” and “Come Early Morning” and “Bug” – whoops! I meant to say, those are the films for which Judd SHOULD be best known. Instead she’s best known cinematically for maudlin thrillers with maudlin titles, so much that everyone assumes every other movie she stars in is a maudlin thriller opposite Morgan Freeman even though they have only ever appeared together on screen three times (and one of those wasn’t a maudlin thriller!).

Anyway, the winsome Ms. Judd has set the political arena abuzz by considering a run for the Kentucky Senate seat held by the much beloved (is beloved the right word?) Mitch McConnell. Let’s set aside for a second whether or not the winsome Ms. Judd could take out intergalactic crime lord (is intergalactic crime lord the right term?) Mitch McConnell – and instead focus on the fact that she was born in California and lives in Tennessee.

Some Nancy Negatives will tell you this should preclude Ash from making a go at Kentucky senate seat. Never mind the fact that she spent most of her childhood in the Bluegrass State, she is the official Face Of Kentucky Basketball. When YOU think of Kentucky do you think of Mitch McConnell or John Calipari cheating – er, bending the rules to his advantage – and Ashley Judd in a shapely UK shirt cheering him on? Yeah. That’s what I thought.

In my native state of Iowa, Democrat Tom Harkin and Republican Charles Grassley have had a stranglehold on the two Senate seats since the William Henry Harrison administration. It would only seem logical that this stranglehold would one day have to end, yes? So let’s make believe that Iowa decided to go Kentucky and usurp Tommy or Charlie (take your pick) and turned to a member of Hollywood – this begs the question, who would play our Ashley Judd?

Some people might toss Ashton Kutcher’s name in the ring but a certain percentage of Iowans pretend he’s not really from Iowa, which is to say I’m reasonably certain that within Iowa borders Grassley and Harkin are Mick and Keith and Ashton Kutcher is Nigel Tufnel.

Brandon Routh is Superman except, well, he’s not.

Tom Arnold could run, sure, but he would be eviscerated.

Michael Emerson was the really creepy dude on "Lost" and no one is voting for the really creepy dude on "Lost." (Of all the people on that damn island, Iowa gets the really creepy dude. Why couldn't we have got Claire? Yes, I know Claire's Australian but she's just so......nice. Can we make Claire an Honorary Iowan?)

Annabeth Gish, who may have been born in New Mexico but was a high school graduate in Cedar Falls, would get us the “Mystic Pizza” vote but pizza can’t compete with a Tom Harkin Steak Fry. (Am I right, Christopher Reed?)

Elijah Wood. Hmmmmmm. Intriguing. He is perhaps best known for playing heroic journeyman Frodo Baggins in the LOTR trilogy which might give him some cache with the liberal intelligentsia of Des Moines’ East Village but might not play so well in that part of southern Iowa that’s basically northern Missouri where GOD billboards run rampant.

Ron Livingston. Now we’re starting to wade into prime challenger territory. Livingston has a laid-back everyman vibe that would play well and his breezy speaking pattern would mix perfectly when spouting platitudes about policy. The one real problem is females might not warm to him since he’s the dude that broke up with Carrie by post-it note. (Don’t ask how I know this.)

David Anthony Higgins. A potentially intriguing choice. Perhaps best known for his fine work on “Malcolm in the Middle”, Des Moines’ own son comes across possessing enough likable innocence to deflect any traditional political assault. Imagine him at the podium during a debate, screwing up some question about accidentally using a few of his campaign funds at a riverboat casino, chuckling, raising his hands in an aw-shucks “what-are-you-gonna-do?” manner, and then coolly offering an “Oops.” Everyone would laugh. But could such feigned helplessness hold up in the long run? I'm not so sure. No. We need someone else.

Michelle Monaghan. Hold it, hold it, HOLD IT. This Winthrop native is ladylike……but with the slightest edge. She’s not gonna take any gruff from you, me or any multi-term government flim-flam artist…….but she’s not going to take it with so much grace. She was in a Sofia Coppola movie (that’s 30,000 bonus points). She can convince as a Trucker, a Tom Cruise spouse (not easy, as even the great Nicole Kidman would attest), a private snoop and she can even hold her own with the wisecracks opposite Robert Downey Jr. This is to say she can assume the shape-shifting, tell-me-what-you-want-me-to-be-and-I’ll-be-it chameleon nature of the politician. And I would pay $25 right now to see her “scoff face” when Grassley or Harkin said something dubious. (Monaghan has one of the most underrated "scoff faces" in the business.) She’s cunning, though not dastardly. She’s a sinner, not a saint – yet, still saintly. She can talk sassily and say something. She’d drink at the High Life Lounge with the hipsters, eat the funnel cake at the fair on East Side Night, cut up a steak at 801 Grand with the upper crust and look right at home in all three places. In other words…

Michelle Monaghan, won’t you be Iowa’s Ashley Judd?