In spite of director Kathryn Bigelow’s incredible intelligence, her extreme beauty inside and out (knockout gorgeous movie star looks, matched by her beautiful soul within) and her amazing directorial genius, her personal neurosis and severely damaged feminine capacity will never allow her – in spite of her directorial genius – to make a commercially successful film, a box office hit that people want to see.
In spite of all the right publicity surrounding her winning virtually every award possible, Kathryn’s "Hurt Locker" has done only $19.3 million worldwide. Her ex-husband, James Cameron, meanwhile, has two all-time-record U.S. grossing pictures – the first, "Titanic," one of the greatest love stories ever filmed ($608 million U.S. alone, $1.835 billion worldwide) and the greatest special-effects love story ever filmed, "Avatar" ($688 million U.S. alone (and counting), $2.456 billion worldwide (and counting!).
Why the difference in the grosses of these two astonishing directorial geniuses?
Kathryn’s has no heart, no love story, little or no feminine compassion or kindness.
She has a capacity to create tension in a film that almost no one else has.
Kathryn has that incredible ability to make a film that transcends being a film and, as the critic Rex Reed said about "Billy Jack" years ago, “…it becomes real life.” But with Kathryn’s films, it is the most painful slice of real life she gives us. In "Hurt Locker," your stomach is in a knot the entire time with one of the most negative, hostile and painful endings ever: Kathryn has our hero, Staff Sgt. William James, leave his loving, caring, responsible wife and his beautiful son to cater to his thanatos, his suicidal death wish and insatiable need to constantly prove his manhood by risking death and killing people while doing so.
The one thing you never do in a Kathryn Bigelow film is come out feeling inspired, good about yourself or 10 feet tall. You come out feeling more than just kicked in the gut, but that you left the dentist’s office after having not just one root canal done but four.
The brilliant director gives us an X-ray into her lack of feminine capacity at the very end of the picture, when our suicidal hero comes home. First, in two scenes with his adoring wife, who has borne the gigantic, horrid responsibility of raising their son alone while waiting for the phone to ring any moment, telling her of her husband’s death. We never even see the warm greeting he gets from her and his son when he first comes home.
The only two scenes we see between this great-looking couple is the wife ignoring him as she cooks dinner, and shoving him some vegetables to cut up to help her. His boredom wreaks havoc with doing this simple task.
The next scene between the two is in the grocery store, where he’s irritated by having to choose which box of cereal to pick off a shelf that's lined with dozens of cereal choices.
