The most talked-about documentary of early 2026 finally reached cinemas this weekend, despite an unusual lack of advance access for critics worldwide. That decision alone raised eyebrows, and after watching the film, it’s not hard to see why.
The Melania Trump documentary has already become a punchline online, largely due to screenshots circulating on social media showing rows of empty seats during pre-sale bookings. When I reserved a ticket for what appeared to be the first public screening at my local Cineworld, I initially found myself listed as the only attendee.
By the time the lights dimmed at noon, a handful of others had arrived — around seven people in total. One fellow critic sat nearby, furiously taking notes, only to mutter her frustration as the credits rolled.
As someone who enjoys political history documentaries regardless of party affiliation, I walked in ready to give the First Lady a fair hearing. I’m usually eager for any behind-the-scenes look at modern presidencies. Unfortunately, what unfolded on screen offered very little new or revealing material.
What viewers get is a slow-moving, tightly controlled glimpse into Melania Trump’s life during the 20 days leading up to Donald Trump’s second inauguration. Amazon MGM Studios reportedly paid $40 million for the project — a striking sum for a film that ultimately feels more like a polished promotional piece than a genuine documentary.
The film is directed by Brett Ratner, whose return to major studio projects has been controversial following multiple sexual assault allegations made against him in 2017, which he has denied. Melania marks his highest-profile comeback to date, alongside the recently announced Rush Hour 4, a project the president has openly supported.
The opening moments are undeniably stylish. Melania strides onto Trump Force One to the sound of the Rolling Stones, while the camera lingers on a novelty bobblehead depicting Donald Trump as the Terminator. It’s flashy, confident, and attention-grabbing.
After that, the pace slows considerably.
Much of the runtime is spent on carefully staged scenes in New York: dress fittings at Trump Tower, formal meetings with fashion insiders, and endless elevator rides filled with deferential aides. With Melania holding editorial control, the film never strays beyond safe, carefully curated territory.
She comes across as intelligent and clearly knowledgeable about fashion, making precise decisions about her inauguration look, including a dramatic 1930s-style hat. Yet the broader attempt to recast herself as the elegant matriarch of a new political era feels forced. The contrast between this aspiration and the lavish, gold-heavy interiors of Trump Tower gives the project an oddly theatrical tone — more costume drama than modern Camelot.
Melania narrates the film herself, delivering every line in a steady, emotionless cadence. The result is a documentary that feels distant and overly stiff, even during moments that seem designed to humanize her. Cameos from Brigitte Macron and Queen Rania of Jordan appear briefly but add little substance.
Donald Trump’s presence does inject occasional life into the film. We see glimpses of backstage moments — Melania dancing along to “YMCA,” offering suggestions on speech edits, and singing Michael Jackson in the back of a limousine. Rather than charming, these scenes often feel awkward in a film that otherwise takes itself extremely seriously and shows little sense of humor.
The most compelling moments are fleeting. The camera captures Joe Biden and Kamala Harris waiting backstage before the inauguration, both visibly subdued. Later, at around 2 a.m. inside the White House residence, Trump orders burgers from the side kitchen before the couple retires for the night, bidding farewell to Ratner off-camera.
Those rare unscripted fragments hint at what the documentary could have been.
In the end, Melania succeeds mainly as a personal branding exercise. For viewers hoping for insight, candor, or a deeper understanding of its subject, it offers very little. It’s a sleek vanity project that may satisfy its central figures — but leaves everyone else watching from a distance.
bull shit
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