The movie “Beatriz at Dinner” (Miguel Arteta) is about a dinner party with one unexpected guest. Beatriz (Salma Hayek) a healer, or let’s say a massage therapist, born in Mexico.
The other dinner guests including the host and hostess are Wasps with slightly more money than other Wasps.
They like to discuss the vaginas of celebrities, but not in a titillating manner, it’s more medical gossip. And they discuss money and business of course. And hunting. Hunting is for the male Wasp what the vagina of celebrities is for the female Wasp.
We sympathize with Beatriz who is unable to defeat the poisonous side effects of capitalism, or effects some would argue. But Beatriz has been working as a therapist for the hostess and her child for quite some time. Didn’t she know for whom she was working? Probably she knew, but she also knew the convenience of not knowing.
There comes a moment that the convenience becomes unbearable. Quite often this moment arrives at dinner time, at least in movies, but probably also in reality.