I don't think I have an opinion about Secretary. I mean, I have a gut feeling which I'd have to describe as negative, but I don't really know on what it is based. Maybe it was seeing a limp and lifeless Maggie Gylenhaal being bathed, washed and moulded back to life by a bloated James Spader that lost me. Or maybe it was the suggestion that the transferral of the desire to self-harm into a desire for masochistic sexual pleasure was something wholly positive, particularly when this newly sexualised desire for pain was dependent on the "patronage" of Spader's character. But then that is kinda unfair, because, really, having a desire for pain that is contingent on the affection of another is no different than having a desire for pleasure that is contingent on the affection of another - it's just not socially sanctioned. Actually, now that I think about it, what made me squirm was watching Gylenhaal allowing/wanting herself to be broken down in order to find validation through Spader (I realise these guys were acting, but I just can't remember the character's names). But then, really, Gylenhaal did seek to be broken down, and as her guiding compass was pointed towards pain, then I guess that for her it was a positive process. I think the film sorta won me (while still leaving a sour after-taste) in the final scene, where Gylenhaal looks straight at the audience, asking, daring us to pass judgement on her. Maybe the limitations that the politically correct seek to impose are just as constricting as the limitations imposed by cinematic misogyny? I think Elanor summed things up when she casually commented post-film (and I paraphrase) "it was a film where two miserable people found a kind of happiness through each other. How can that be bad"?