Lady and the Dale (2021)

A review of the HBO four-part docuseries

Executive Producers Mark and Jay Duplass present a wayward David and Goliath story, wrapped in sheep’s clothing with Lady and the Dale, a fascinating new four-part HBO docuseries.

G. Elizabeth Carmichael made headlines in the mid-1970s for launching a three-wheeler motorcar – ‘The Dale’, named after its designer Dale Clifft – to a market in a severe gas crisis. With its odd spaceship-looking design, The Dale was marketed as a revolutionary contender and threat to the big three automakers (General Motors, Ford and Stellantis North America) offering more of a fuel-efficient option. Liz Carmichael’s efforts resulted in riotous success. Her unwavering ambition, endless energy and entrepreneurial savviness secured millions of dollars of pre-sales before the car was even manufactured. Tipped off by news reporters, the Californian government halted production plans of the Dale, charging Carmichael and several associates with fraud and conspiracy.

Carmichael’s biggest crime, however, was that she was a transexual*.

Directors Nick Cammilleri and Zackary Drucker leave few stones unturned, starting with the exploits of Jerry Dean Michael (Carmichael’s dead name) in the 1960s and a life of petty cons that led to life as a fugitive before transitioning. The first episode sets the scene well in detailing Carmichael’s early days but takes too long to get to the juice of the story.

Carmichael’s past is told through animation that takes cut-out photographs of each central character and uses them in a stock-motion style alongside footage of the era. Cammilleri and Drucker choice to opt for this different and creative style avoids the typical recreations with actors, and result in arresting and engaging imagery.

Audio recordings of Carmichael reading letters over the years are used well, and infrequent narration serves only when reporting on the specifics of her crimes. This narration is almost lifted from a Wes Anderson film, as if Jason Schwartzman is playing the role of a policeman, briefing us, the audience, on the crimes of Carmichael’s past.

Interviews with two of Carmichael’s five children, a grandchild and her brother-in-law paint a portrait of a charming, persuasive and towering figure (both symbolic and literal). These character assessments are honest and acknowledge the crime and the deceit alongside the warm qualities Carmichael had as a mother. In contrast, interviews with police investigators and news reporters posit Carmichael and her nefarious crimes in a different light.

Two stories play throughout the docuseries: one of a con-person on the run, turning tricks and doing what it takes to get ahead; the other of a transgendered woman persecuted by society in the 1970s. Both stories are interesting, though the latter is stronger. Yet, both stories intertwine out of necessity and one cannot be told without the other.

Deception threads through the docuseries. Despite a criminal history, 1970s society sees Carmichael’s transness as the biggest deception of all. Hindsight positions these perceptions as outmoded and hurtful.

Lady and the Dale benefits from the inclusion of historian Susan Stryker as both an on-camera interviewee and behind the scenes as a consulting producer. Stryker associates Carmichael’s public perception in context to trans issues that date back to the mid-1800s where crossdressing was outlawed in the United States. Stryker cites trans pioneers from Christine Jorgensen to tennis player Renée Richards alongside Carmichael, not necessarily as a positive role model, but as a transwoman surviving, the grittiness, transitioning into an unaccommodating world’.

Lady and the Dale is most compelling when discussing the ‘evil deceivers and make believers’ trope. Dick Carlson, a news reporter for KABC-TV who exposes her past, appears half-way through the series and is a true foe for the ages. Initially, his intentions seem to focus on Carmichael’s crimes, warranting his covert undercover reporting. Later, Carlson reveals it was Carmichael’s appearance that motivated his suspicions. His neutrality plummets and a transphobic ugliness appears with purposeful misgendered and cruel language towards the trans community.

With some tighter editing, Lady and the Dale would be a remarkable docuseries. Instead, a fatigued first episode slowly leads into a captivating, thought-provoking and sensitive portrait of an incredible life.

Lady and the Dale is streaming on Binge.

Whole season screened for review.

* ‘Transexual’ was the term used by G. Elizabeth Carmichael to self-identify.