The Guardian had an interesting piece about Patric Gagne, an admitted sociopath who discussed in the article how she managed to adjust to society by learning to imitate the emotions of others, so as to react in socially appropriate ways to various scenarios. That sounds exhausting to me, and I can’t imagine how much of a strain this has to be on a person. At the same time, I’m not sure I could ever fully trust somebody like that. I know I would be suspicious of somebody whose every statement or expression is likely to be, if not intentionally dishonest, the result of emotions they do not feel.
I do not believe an exact diagnosis is provided for Olivia Cooke’s disorder in 2017’s Thoroughbreds, but that Guardian article had me thinking she is somewhere on the sociopath spectrum. She doesn’t show any emotion in a pre-credits scene where she grabs a knife and prepares to slaughter her prized racehorse. Fortunately, we do not see the act performed, but this act sets the stage for her to face animal cruelty charges. She also becomes a social pariah in this very (very) upscale community.
Cooke used to be best friends with Anya Taylor-Joy, who is similarly wealthy. I don’t believe we’re told exactly what caused them to become estranged, but that is really just the way most childhood friendships go. Now Taylor-Joy is being paid by Cooke’s mother to provide SAT tutoring to the ostracized girl, though I suspect it is more to buy a “friend” with whom Cooke might re-establish a connection to society.
At their first session, Taylor-Joy’s step-father (Paul Sparks) enters the room. Everything about him immediately communicates a certain type, and the audience is made to be wary of him. He obviously works out a lot. It is no surprise he drives a vintage sportscar which he keeps in immaculate condition. His visual appraisal of Cooke scans as gross.
I went into this assuming it would be a variation on Strangers on a Train, with the girls exchanging murders. To my surprise, it only has them plotting to kill Sparks. An interesting element has them roping in an unrelated character to commit the crime. That would be Anton Yelchin’s drug dealer, who at first appears to be a street-smart outsider who wryly observes the superficiality of wealth before it is revealed he is a sad loser who was from that same upper-class world he seems to disdain.
Other characters will gradually be revealed to have facets which were previously and intentionally concealed. I don’t believe I am spoiling anything when I say Taylor-Joy has been far from honest with Cooke, but the nature of that deception is interesting and it is something I will not say more about here.
What does seem odd is Cooke fails to pick up on these signs early enough. The absence of emotions felt by her character gives her a clarity, however coldly analytical, that the others seem to lack, so it is odd she would have any blind spots.
One of the best moments concerning her condition has her showing Taylor-Joy how to cry on cue. “The technique” (as she puts it) becomes a thread through the runtime. In one deeply uncomfortable moment, Taylor-Joy learns Cooke was doing just that when she appeared to be crying with the other girl when the grandfather of the former dies.
Gagne, the focus of that Guardian article, went on to become a doctorate-holding therapist. She even became a wife and mother. Even having read that article, I still find it difficult to understand how a sociopath could love even their own children. How can somebody who doesn’t have emotions even understand the concept of love? And yet, Thoroughbreds may have provided an even better gateway to relating to those with this disorder. It is a movie with one known sociopath and another who is superficially “normal”, but who may be the more dangerous of the two. At least Cooke aspires to be a better person: “I have to work a little harder than everybody else to be good.” Like so many things in life, those who have to work at something tend to be better people overall.
Dir: Cory Finley
Starring Olivia Cooke, Anya Taylor-Joy, Anton Yelchin
Watched on blu-ray