The Tamesis
“It has come to my attention that I may never have power over another human being again.” This is what we heard VladimirA new dark comedy on Netflix in which Rachel Weisz’s character – an unnamed college professor – breaks the fourth wall for the first time. She went on to lament that she might never be able to inspire a “spontaneous erection” in a man again. She worried that her students would find the course she taught on American women writers “outdated,” then joked that her topic was “a little broad.” Instantly, I was hooked. I watched all eight episodes in one sitting.
Adapted from the 2022 novel of the same name by Julia Mae Jonas, Vladimir It follows a middle-aged, married protagonist who develops an intense infatuation with a new colleague at an elite American university, the married but flirtatious young Vlad (played by Leo Woodall), who seems to revel in being cast as cougar bait (see Bridget Jones: Crazy for this boy For further evidence; there’s even a similar slow-motion running scene by the pool).
So far, so standard. After all, there’s no shortage of horny middle-aged women on screen and in literature these days, like the one played by Nicole Kidman in “Romy.” baby girl miranda jolie narrator on all fours. There’s a growing cultural genre dedicated to exploring how desire at this stage of life can actually create instability, especially if you, like Weisz’s character, are trying to prove to yourself that you “still have it.” During her first interaction with Vlad, he made an offhand comment about her “qualifications,” apparently fueling her intense need to seduce him.
What’s different about this character is that she goes against a certain archetype: the assumption that middle-aged women have their own things going on. Well, she has a good job and a nice house. But in many ways, her dramatic behavior is similar to that of a teenager (albeit very unhinged). She decides to befriend Vlad’s wife because, as she says, “You shouldn’t covet your friend’s husband.” When she suspects her husband of being unfaithful to Vlad’s wife, she just tries harder to seduce him. She blackmailed, she lied, she cheated. She spikes drinks, she pretends to have sex, she incarcerates (this is not a spoiler, this is in the first scene). She’s also stylistically chaotic, having Weisz address the audience—her willing accomplices—directly in a wink-wink, nudge-nudge style that certainly draws comparisons to one of the most chaotic women in TV history: Fleabag.
Another key difference: despite the protagonist’s best efforts (and bad behavior), her romance with Vlad is largely imagined. She reads his novels and masturbates. She writes about him and masturbates. Different from Romy’s sexual awakening baby girlor the many illegal motel room trysts on all fourswhere our heroine’s fantasies remain very much the same. Her escapades aren’t even specifically directed at Vlad, sexy as he is. She knows her colleagues are gossiping about her academic colleague’s husband’s scandalous dalliances with students on campus (they have an open marriage), and that the popularity of her own class is being overtaken by a younger, cooler teacher. It’s about regaining control and reclaiming her sexuality, refusing to succumb to the invisibility that is often seen as inevitable for women as they age.
