On opening weekend, “Melania” played to a nearly empty theater. Other showtimes in the Austin area didn’t fare much better, with only a handful of tickets sold in many venues, despite reports estimating a $7 million opening weekend in North America. It’s an understated reception for a documentary with a reported $35 million marketing campaign and wide theatrical release. Absent audiences aren’t missing out on anything. Beneath its extreme displays of wealth, exclusivity and promise of a peek behind the curtain, “Melania” is a film that ultimately reveals next to nothing about its subject.
Presenting itself as an intimate, behind-the-scenes portrait of Melania Trump, the film offers access to private moments surrounding the days before Donald Trump’s 2025 inauguration. “Melania” takes advantage of the long history of public interest in the lives of the first family and the gravitas of the role of the first lady, something we rarely get to see the inner workings of. In theory, this is a compelling premise for a documentary.
In reality, the documentary struggles to find anything to focus on. Much of the film feels like it’s waiting for anything interesting to happen. Within the first few minutes, Melania is shown getting in and out of a car twice, a disorienting filler clip for a movie built on filling space. Transitions stretch on and scenes linger in a way that feels like the audience is pulling teeth to get through it. A documentary with something to say about the most powerful first spouse in the world would not need to fill time this way. “Melania” does.
The film relies heavily on direct address to the camera, a choice that breaks any sense of intimacy or the “fly on the wall” nature that works best in a film set in an otherwise closed-off world. At several points in the film, the Trumps signal that it’s “okay” for the camera to enter the room, moments that should have been cut. Either the audience has access to a moment, or we do not. By calling attention to the act of being filmed, the movie turns itself into a performance, feeling staged rather than revelatory.
The film leans heavily on iconic music to create emotion otherwise largely vacant. “Billie Jean” appears twice. Songs by Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley, the Rolling Stones, James Brown and the Village People are used throughout the film. Most documentaries would use such emotionally and culturally loaded songs sparingly to underscore a particular moment. But when every transition is backed by an iconic song, the effect becomes quite numbing. A stark reminder that the documentary itself has little to say between needle drops.
By the end of the film, the only genuine emotional moment offered is Melania Trump’s grief over the death of her mother. These moments are quiet and human, saying a lot more about the documentary that could have been. There are more compelling stories the film chose not to pursue; Melania’s life before coming to the United States, her experience as an immigrant and her work with foster children are all mentioned, but should have been expanded upon. Any one of these could have given the film shape, purpose and life.
Near the end of “Melania,” its subject offers a reflection: “Because in the end, no matter where we come from, we are bound by the same humanity.” It’s a line meant to feel unifying and profound. But placed inside a documentary that avoids asking hard questions or following ideas through, the statement rings hollow. In the end, “Melania” shows us where its subject stands, what she wears and who she meets … but not who she is.
1 out of 5 Inaugural Balls
