After Ruby Rose’s performance as Ares the androgynous assassin, who stole the show in John Wick 2, it was only a matter of time before she landed the lead in an action film. Her stint as Batwoman proves Rose has star power. But, unfortunately, Doorman fails to make the most of Rose’s charm or skills. The title Doorman suggests at least a little gender-bending. But, almost as penance for making a decorated female vet the main character, Doorman sticks rigidly to the gender script in every other regard.
After the ambassador she was sworn to protect dies in a terrorist attack, Ali struggles with her return to civilian life. Her uncle gets her a job in The Carrington, a posh hotel about to undergo renovations. All of the guests have moved out, except for an elderly couple and a young family – who just happen to be the husband and children of Ali’s dead sister. A reluctant Ali accepts their invitation to Easter dinner. (Is that even a thing?) And when a violent heist kicks off, Ali is all that stands between her relations and death.
Rose shines in the action scenes, trading blows with minions and taking fire with military precision. Doorman is never more entertaining than during a fight sequence.
But everything else – including the reason behind those fights – falls flat. There’s nothing original about the sophisticated European villain. And the entire premise of the heist – that there’s a stash of Rembrandts in the hotel – is impossible to believe.
But the real tragedy is how they watered down Ruby Rose’s soft butch vibe. Ali – Rose’s character – is repeatedly shown to have a weak spot for kids. This in itself isn’t a bad thing, but we must ask: why are the studio so at pains to paint her as safe and maternal? And though Ali kicks ass throughout the film, it’s all to save her estranged family. Gone is the slick anonymity of the Wickverse. Instead, there are endless reminders that “Aunt Ali” has a softer side.
Rose’s appeal lies in the authenticity of her masc-of-centre aesthetic. Even straight women salivated over her breakthrough role, OITNB’s tattooed inmate Stella Carlin. Which is testimony to the power of this image.
Yet Lionsgate did nothing to capitalize on it. Wardrobe turned Rose into a more feminine version of herself. Ali shows up for Easter dinner in a floral mumu dress. And Rose’s tattoos are kept covered throughout. She’s also given the most pointless het backstory in the history of action films.
More ludicrous than the missing Rembrandts was the romantic subplot with her brother-in-law (yes, really). Viewers were supposed to believe that Ali had been pining for Jon, that she joined up to get away from the temptation to wreck her sister’s marriage. But there was more chemistry between Ruby Rose and her military uniform in Doorman’s opening scene.
Perhaps the Studio thought having a lesbian main character would hurt their film’s profits. Or maybe it happened because Ruby Rose doesn’t want to be known as a “lesbian actor.” Either way, this straight subplot added nothing to the movie except awkwardness. And it’s a joke that the writing team thought history with her dead sister’s husband was a better choice than A) no romance B) a female partner.
