Hooker with a Heart (and Hand) of Gold: Irina Palm

Originally published at SpoutBlog:

Irina Palm: Hooker With A Heart (and Hand) Of Gold

In the 9/21 edition of “The NY Times Magazine,” Randy Cohen, a.k.a. “The Ethicist,” responding to a writer inquiring about the morality of a professor patronizing a strip club, offered this little admonishment, “Nobody should attend strip clubs, those purveyors of sexism as entertainment. Strip shows are to gender what minstrel shows are to race. But while I endorse your conclusion about these sad displays.”

To which I respond, Oh, brother. (Yes, who better an expert on female strippers than a gay guy who pens a column for The Grey Lady?) Between this sweeping, condescending – not to mention unethical – judgment of “gentlemen’s clubs,” and the latest crackdown on NYC’s houses of domination (which sent the “NY Post” into a “slap-happy” tizzy) I needed an uplifting, sex-positive view of the industry ASAP. So what better time to Netflix over to London to try out “Irina Palm”?

Sam Garbarski’s lovely gem of a film starring Marianne Faithfull as a grandmother who chooses prostitution to pay for travel expenses to Australia for a last-ditch operation for her sick grandson, is really a journey to self-empowerment, as Faithfull’s Maggie saves both her grandson and herself through the discovery of her own sexuality. Faithfull’s portrayal of a working class widow forced to take matters into her own hands (or rather “palm”) for the first time in her life is as honest and nuanced as anything the royal acting dames of England have done in recent years. Even in her sixties, Faithfull – Mick Jagger’s ex and the great-great-niece of “Venus in Furs” author Leopold von Sacher-Masoch – knows she has eroticism in her blood, which she smartly downplays in favor of her maternal side, letting her natural sexiness merely peek out from beneath a frumpy winter coat and dowdy hairdo.

After being turned down at the bank and at the unemployment office for being too old, desperate Maggie sees a sign for a “hostess” position in a storefront. Walking through a garishly lit hallway to the beat of a throbbing sound system she finds she has stumbled into a seedy strip club, and right into the office of club owner Miki, played by the equally middle-aged, equally sexy Miki Manojlovic (best known for his work with Emir Kusturica). They have a hilarious exchange from across Miki’s desk, which begins when Maggie is told that “hostess” is a euphemism. “Do you know what a euphemism is?” Miki inquires. “No,” Maggie hesitantly replies. “I didn’t either – my lawyer had to tell me,” Miki deadpans then defines the word before adding, “Hostess is a euphemism for whore.” Without missing a beat he asks to see her hands, swiftly decides she’s got great jack off mitts, smooth and sensual. The shaken Maggie demurs, gets up and makes her way towards the door, only to be stopped in her tracks by Miki’s offer – six hundred a week to start.

Inevitably, the lure of easy money returns Maggie to “Sexy World”, its no frills “live nude show” sign out front, where she’s taught the lucrative skill of jerking off guys through a glory hole in a wall by Luisa, a pretty bored brunette with an Eastern European accent. The camera stays on Luisa’s upper torso and face as she matter-of-factly explains her ritualized method, some anonymous dude on the other side panting and moaning until she ends with “Remember, you are in control,” as we hear the guy come. Luisa shrugs, washes up and in her no nonsense way squirts lotion onto Maggie’s palm before taking the terrified woman through the motions, the look on Maggie’s mortified face funny and endearing. Riding home on the bus at the end of the day Maggie can’t stop staring at her hands, these suddenly foreign objects of sex and desire (and female power).

What follows is a wonderful workaday scene worthy of the Dardenne brothers as Maggie, seated alone in the dark dingy room, presses the red button that signals for the next customer, waits, then lotions up and begins on the unseen dick, her movements as awkward as if she were kneading bread with one hand. Her wrist begins to ache as if she were working on a factory assembly line until finally the day shift is over, the club morphing into an evening strip joint. On her way out she runs into Luisa who befriends the still unsure woman, takes her for a drink. Maggie returns the kind gesture by opening up, confiding in her colleague how she became the “wanking widow.”

But Maggie’s new life can’t help but clash with the old. Her equally sheltered, frumpy friends express surprise that she landed a job. “A job? Maggie can’t do anything, can she?” one gossips snidely to another before the camera cuts to Maggie in her small sparse room, making a load of money off men’s loads. She becomes virtually transformed by prostitution – finds her “calling,” the one thing she’s better at than anyone else – and begins to glamorize a bit, a touch of lipstick now that she’s been christened “Irina Palm.” After Miki covertly “tries her out” and decides he wants her to work more days and longer hours Maggie seizes the opportunity with a good dose of chutzpah – says she needs 6,000 pounds right away, agreeing to work for the next eight weeks, earning 800 per week and letting him keep the rest as interest. Miki reaches out to shake on the deal after adding his own provision that if she cheats him he’ll kill her. As their hands meet the realization that Maggie’s hand job talent is her trump card, giving her an empowerment she’s never been allowed before, is crystal clear. This is a woman who finally knows her worth.

As the men line up to experience the notorious “Irina Palm,” Maggie starts to take pride in both her work and herself, nailing a scenic picture to an empty wall, placing a vase of flowers next to the lotion on the table. The job becomes nearly as humdrum as secretarial work with Maggie easily flipping through the pages of a magazine with her free hand, tuning out the orgasms. She even gets “penis elbow” (a carpal tunnel cousin to “tennis elbow”), which forces her to wear a sling and switch to her left palm. And still the men come and come.

Including Dave, owner of a rival Soho strip club called Sex-O-Rama, who upon discovering Irina’s identity offers Maggie a job that will give her 15% of the earnings of the girls she trains plus her own salary. Shocked that she’s so in demand Maggie’s even more stunned when, after disclosing that she still owes Miki, Dave assures her, “I’ll take care of it.” With bargaining chips galore Maggie returns to tell Miki of Dave’s offer. A jealous Miki abruptly dismisses her but just as quickly changes his mind and chases her down, which leads to the pair having dinner together. The tale of Maggie’s sexual awakening begins to expand into a sweet love story between two middle-aged industry workers each growing to mutually respect the other.

Which gives Maggie an even greater freedom, the strength to be herself without shame. Emboldened she joins her old maid friends for afternoon tea and tells all, taking special pride in the fact that Miki “the club owner” says she has the best right hand in London. “I’m Irina Palm. I’m the best,” she announces her face aglow (a bittersweet statement as Faithfull never lets us forget that this is the first time in Maggie’s life she’s ever been good at anything). “Irina Palm?” an incredulous frump wonders. “Stage name,” Maggie continues. “Everyone has one. Oh, these look delicious, Jane. Did you make them yourself?” she adds, picking up a pastry. Of course, the gossipy women can’t help but inquire about methods, about length, until Maggie, having had enough, stretches her arm. “Touch of penis elbow,” she sighs then takes her leave.

Now that Maggie’s able to call her friends on their bullshit – even publicly lets snobby Jane know she knew all about her affair with her dead husband “and how much you like to be spanked,” as he confessed before he died – and in the next instant confidently go about her shopping, she’s become a new woman. She’s strong enough to feel the pain of her son, who discovers the origin of the money for his own son’s operation and orders her to quit, ride it out, then reclaim her life for herself. Her last minute decision not to ship off with the family to Australia, but to return to “Sexy World” bags in hand, the stoic Miki rushing over to kiss her passionately for the very first time, is not only touching – it’s the power of sex at its unapologetic peak.