Maddie’s Secret, the directorial debut from comedian, actor, and writer John Early, exists on full tilt. Starring Early as the titular Maddie, the film bounces between melodrama and sketch comedy, between serious storytelling and a less-defined sense of silliness. Its tonal whiplash is a feature, though, rather than a bug. Following Maddie as she becomes a food influencer overnight, Early’s film is a skewering of the social media era of food journalism that society entered in the last 15 years, with real-world cultural references and comedian cameos galore. It’s a riot and a Millennial memorial, a wave of committed performances, committed writing, and committed emotions.
The film’s tone takes inspiration from melodramas and TV movies from the 1980s and 1990s, with its bright color palette matching Maddie’s various moods. She has a terse conversation with her mother under dark blues and grays, while her kitchen pops with a cherry red. Her bathroom, which she walks slowly toward in her first bout of bulimia in the film, remains starkly white. And her job at GourMaybe—a mirror of Bon Appétit—is a colorful fantasy. Early shoots Los Angeles and the food that fills it in rich textures.
The dialogue is stilted and hokey, an intentional offbeat choice. The characters almost act as though they’re in a dream—they can’t believe what comes next in their lives. Maddie becomes an overnight sensation after filming a single video in her kitchen, earning her a promotion, hundreds of thousands of social media followers, and a chance to be the food consultant on a hit show called The Boar. This closeness to food re-triggers Maddie’s eating disorder, brought on by a childhood filled with neglect and traumatic experiences. Soon, Maddie is forced to the hospital with the very-real possibility of dying due to her bulimia, and she enters a hospital-bound treatment program to get necessary help.
Early punctuates this story with a queer dance class Maddie joins with her friend and obsessor, Deena (Early’s longtime foil Kate Berlant). He shoots these dancers with fluidity and more directorial flair, but in essence, these are moments of movement. These scenes are meant to represent Maddie’s inability to slow down, her need to continue pushing herself to her limit. They also serve the purpose of putting our heroine into LA’s many queer spaces, a world that should be affirming Maddie’s—and everyone else’s—sense of self, sense of worth, and sense of belonging. Instead, it’s a reminder of differences, of expectations, and of neglect.
Berlant is one of several scene-stealing supporting actors in the cast, many of whom have worked with Early in the past. The Deena character can be one-note, but Berlant’s commitment pulls the character forward. Connor O’Malley pops up as the boss of GourMaybe, showing the least amount of kindness in direct contrast to the amount of laughter he elicits in Early’s crafted world. But the real supporting star is Vanessa Bayer as Maddie’s roommate while in the treatment center. There’s a lightness and vulnerability to Bayer’s performance that I found astonishing. Her naivety, initially played for laughs, is charming and a joy to watch. She personifies such a specific kind of care, a character with openness and love that seems genuine. The emotional highpoint of the film doesn’t work without Bayer’s imbued humanity.
Still, this is Early’s film. It’s his script, his vision, his character, his performance, and—most importantly—his commitment that makes Maddie’s Secret a success. He’s fully bought in and fully devoted to Maddie’s story, warts and all. I bought in, too, and once I did, the film became undeniable.
