‘Melania’ Review: Brett Ratner’s Melania Trump Propaganda Doc

The wait is over. Amazon’s $75 million corporate bribe, excuse me, documentary Melania has arrived in theaters, where it will surely play to the biggest audiences the Republican Party can buy. Not that they’ve bothered with that hotbed of liberalism known as New York City. There were just three other people present at the first opening-day showing at 42nd Street’s AMC Empire Theater. And two of them were other film critics, since there were no press screenings of the doc and we were forced to pay our offerings to the first lady like everyone else.

To say that Melania is a hagiography would be an insult to hagiographies. This is a film that fawns so lavishly over its subject that you feel downright unpatriotic not gushing over it. Fittingly, it was directed by Brett Ratner, whose feature film career was derailed in 2017 after numerous sexual assault allegations that he has denied. But like many unsavory people associated with Donald Trump, he’s apparently received a pardon.

The documentary, which chronicles the 20 days before the 2025 presidential inauguration, begins at Mar-a-Lago, where we first see Melania’s high heels, then the back of her head, before her face is finally revealed (it’s quite a tease). She boards a Trump-branded private jet to the strains of “Gimme Shelter.” Which seems a strange choice, since the lyrics refer to murder, rape and war. It’s but the first of several odd needle drops in the documentary, including “Billie Jean” (about false sexual allegations), “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” (self-explanatory), Ravel’s “Bolero” (forever associated with sex), and “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World” (yup). You get the feeling whoever compiled the soundtrack has a wicked sense of humor.

“Every day I live with purpose and devotion,” Melania intones on the soundtrack, delivering the first of an endless number of inspirational phrases seemingly cribbed from self-help books. She also lives with an army of costumers and designers with whom she’s seen consulting about her outfits and the décor for the upcoming inauguration celebrations. She meets with them at Trump Tower, the interiors of which make Versailles look drab.

“My creative vision is always clear,” she informs us, right after instructing a costumer to make her outfit “tighter.” She looks over the invitations for the inauguration dinner, and seems pleased to hear that the first course will be “a golden egg and caviar.” Because, of course.  

“I honor the importance of the White House,” she says solemnly, although apparently that honor wasn’t extended to the East Wing. She meets with an interior designer, who proudly tells her that she arrived as an immigrant from Laos when she was 2 years old. (Presumably, the designer’s apprehension by ICE will be chronicled in the upcoming related docuseries.)

Melania is shown engaging in less frivolous activities, including meeting with an Israeli woman who was taken hostage by Hamas and is now desperately trying to get her husband freed. She also confers with French first lady Brigitte Macron and Queen Rania of Jordan about forming an international coalition of her “Be Best” initiative and the dangers of social media. Because if anyone knows about cyberbullying, it’s Brigitte Macron.

“I will always use my influence and power to fight for those in need,” Melania announces in yet another voiceover that feels scripted by a motivational speaker.

Then it’s time to head to D.C. She shares her limo with Ratner, and the two sing along to “Billie Jean” in what may be the worst episode of Carpool Karaoke ever. “This is my last flight as a private citizen,” she tells us as she boards her private jet, the irony clearly escaping her.

Donald Trump enters the film around the halfway mark, sadly ending the deprivation that we’ve been feeling up to that point. At a meeting to discuss the impending inauguration, he’s his usual charming self, complaining about the championship sports game that’s taking place the same day. “They probably did it on purpose,” he grouses.  

From then on, it’s mostly a rehash of the televised events surrounding the inauguration, including the elaborate dinner attended by the likes of Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos; a solemn ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery, where Trump looks unhappy, but not for the right reasons; and the inauguration itself, with Melania cheekily commenting, “Here we go again,” before making her entrance. We also get more than the usual brief shots of Barron, although to fully appreciate his proportions you really need to see the film in Imax.

At one point, Melania is shown watching television coverage of the proceedings on CNN, apparently unconcerned that the network only traffics in fake news.

Melania takes pains to include many shots of her and Donald acting like a loving couple, which threatens to take the film out of the realm of nonfiction. “Nobody has endured what he has for the last few years,” she points out, which explains why he’s so intent on making the country endure it as well.

The expensive propaganda doc is glossily shot and lushly scored, although for some reason Ratner keeps inserting segments shot on what looks like Super 8 film, as if to infuse the Trumps with some of that Kennedy-era aura.

Before the film ends with onscreen graphics listing Melania’s achievements as first lady in such laudatory fashion that North Korea would blush, she’s shown posing for her official portrait. Doing her best to look both sexy and authoritative, she seems most in her element.