December 19, 2008
leitch: REVOLUTIONARY ROAD 1. Going into this film, I had a sense that it might be the worst date movie imaginable. Not having read the book, the trailer seemed to imply it was about the slow deterioration of a once-happy marriage, an invitation for any young couple to wonder what if that happens to us? It was therefore an odd relief to realize that the Wheelers are at each other’s throats from the get-go. (Requiem For A Dream’s WDMI title is still safe.) We see the two meet, and then we’re flash forwarded to them about to kill each other. That is to say: This movie is not as depressing as it could have been. Their marital troubles are real, and urgent, but they don’t feel like ours. This is not a movie about American life in the suburbs. This is a movie about two flawed people tearing each other apart. After fearful American Beauty comparisons, this is a relief. 2. The downside to this is that we never get to know either of the Wheelers all that well, at least outside what we can garner from the scenes of them trying to destroy each other. Do they ever just relax for a second? Do they ever watch TV and zone out? Where are their parents? For that matter, where are their kids? (The kids have a nifty habit of being in the house when they’re needed, and “over at a friend’s house” whenever Mommy and Daddy break out the automatic weaponry.) It’s clear that they’re not happy, and it’s clear that they’re not helping each other, and it’s clear that somebody needs to escape, one of them, both of them, whatever. But you feel like you don’t have enough of the emotional backstory to invest truly in their epic battles. Remember the scene in “The Sopranos,” when Tony and Carmela go at it for about 15 minutes in the Season 4 finale? Remember how charged it was? As ruthless as the hollering matches are here, we’re a little removed from them, like we don’t know these two well enough to feel it. To be fair: “The Sopranos” had about 40 hours of screen time to work up our appetite. But still: We are watching two strong actors pretend to fight. It’s not in our gut. 3. Boy, though, they’re both good. DiCaprio has the showier role; he really gets to work himself into a lather, and his boyishness quietly underscores his character’s core immaturity. Winslet’s even better in a role that I bet is going to resonate with women a lot more than it does with men. Having this take place in the ’50s allows the more obvious indignities women endured at the time stand in for the more subtle, but no less pressing, issues they face today. Winslet’s a master at playing characters that are profoundly unhappy (and a little, but not a lot, unbalanced) without coming close to understanding why, struggling to reconcile what should be and what is. And never being able to figure out why the two can’t meet. (This role’s superficially similar to Sarah Pierce in Little Children, but with a lot more going on in the margins.) What’s most impressive about both actors is that even though they’re playing selfish, confused, often cruel people, you find yourself pulling for them, regardless. One of the film’s smartest conceits is that the Wheelers are the envy of their suburb. Everybody loves the Wheelers. They’re the Wheelers! The couple thinks they’re smarter and more glamorous than everyone they meet in their life, and they’re probably right. Which is precisely the problem. 4. Most of the way, the film feels more like a documentary about the couple than a corrosive study of either of them. (Albeit a glossy, lacquered one that seems more interested in set design than capturing an actual moment in time. Thomas Newman’s distracting, pay-attention-here-something-important’s-happening score doesn’t help either.) But, twice, Michael Shannon shows up. The actor, playing the disturbed son of the Wheelers’ older neighbors, doesn’t so much steal the movie as he does rip it to shreads, living everyone else to pick up afterwards. He’s a Greek chorus, the guy who arrives just in time to rip out the guts of everyone involved and then move along. (His last line will make you gasp.) It’s a hammy role, and a bit of a cheat — he appears to be watching the movie along with us, commenting, rather than being an actual character — but does he ever give a kick in the pants right when the film needs it. Whenever he’s on screen, the movie drops its quiet sense of propriety and turns into something raw, urgent and terrifying. A movie full of this would have been too much; two scenes is just right. When everyone spends all their time lying to each other and themselves, a batshit crazy truth teller is gonna break some china right good. 5. The last scene of the film is perfect because it has something the most of the rest of the film lacks: Humor. So much is pitched so black that the film’s almost afraid to see the absurdity of it all: These are, after all, just two people, and their problems tend to come with the price tag of a hill of beans. (It’s another reason Shannon is welcome; his line readings are so crisp that you laugh just to soften the blow.) After a while, you want to say: OK, maybe you two should just get a divorce. I know it’s the 50s, but it happens. The film cares about the Wheelers, and it sympathizes with them, but it’s not clear what it wants to say about them. Here’s a thought experiment: If she doesn’t get pregnant, do they really drop everything and move to Paris? Really? I’m not sure the film has the answer. And I’m not sure it makes a compelling enough case as to why this is all so terribly important anyway. In a season when filmmakers have focused so much on the big picture than the human angle, Revolutionary Road has the opposite problem. You occasionally want to remind the Wheelers that the world is continuing, around them, despite their problems. But these is the picking of nits. There are moments of real power, quiet beauty and distinct, if distant, pain. The Wheelers spend their lives both fighting against and comforting to complacency, and it drives them both insane. Shame they couldn’t have had the same perspective as the mental patient next door. GRADE: B+ Smart stuff. But: Read the book. Most of the answers to 2. are there. Also, the word divorce—or the concept, really—never comes up. It’s not entirely clear if these two ever come to grips with the notion that they may be happier apart. It’s just not in their emotional vocabulary. Maybe that’s brainwashing and maybe it reflects a strangely dignified sort of devotion.

leitch:

REVOLUTIONARY ROAD

1. Going into this film, I had a sense that it might be the worst date movie imaginable. Not having read the book, the trailer seemed to imply it was about the slow deterioration of a once-happy marriage, an invitation for any young couple to wonder what if that happens to us? It was therefore an odd relief to realize that the Wheelers are at each other’s throats from the get-go. (Requiem For A Dream’s WDMI title is still safe.) We see the two meet, and then we’re flash forwarded to them about to kill each other. That is to say: This movie is not as depressing as it could have been. Their marital troubles are real, and urgent, but they don’t feel like ours. This is not a movie about American life in the suburbs. This is a movie about two flawed people tearing each other apart. After fearful American Beauty comparisons, this is a relief.

2. The downside to this is that we never get to know either of the Wheelers all that well, at least outside what we can garner from the scenes of them trying to destroy each other. Do they ever just relax for a second? Do they ever watch TV and zone out? Where are their parents? For that matter, where are their kids? (The kids have a nifty habit of being in the house when they’re needed, and “over at a friend’s house” whenever Mommy and Daddy break out the automatic weaponry.) It’s clear that they’re not happy, and it’s clear that they’re not helping each other, and it’s clear that somebody needs to escape, one of them, both of them, whatever. But you feel like you don’t have enough of the emotional backstory to invest truly in their epic battles. Remember the scene in “The Sopranos,” when Tony and Carmela go at it for about 15 minutes in the Season 4 finale? Remember how charged it was? As ruthless as the hollering matches are here, we’re a little removed from them, like we don’t know these two well enough to feel it. To be fair: “The Sopranos” had about 40 hours of screen time to work up our appetite. But still: We are watching two strong actors pretend to fight. It’s not in our gut.

3. Boy, though, they’re both good. DiCaprio has the showier role; he really gets to work himself into a lather, and his boyishness quietly underscores his character’s core immaturity. Winslet’s even better in a role that I bet is going to resonate with women a lot more than it does with men. Having this take place in the ’50s allows the more obvious indignities women endured at the time stand in for the more subtle, but no less pressing, issues they face today. Winslet’s a master at playing characters that are profoundly unhappy (and a little, but not a lot, unbalanced) without coming close to understanding why, struggling to reconcile what should be and what is. And never being able to figure out why the two can’t meet. (This role’s superficially similar to Sarah Pierce in Little Children, but with a lot more going on in the margins.) What’s most impressive about both actors is that even though they’re playing selfish, confused, often cruel people, you find yourself pulling for them, regardless. One of the film’s smartest conceits is that the Wheelers are the envy of their suburb. Everybody loves the Wheelers. They’re the Wheelers! The couple thinks they’re smarter and more glamorous than everyone they meet in their life, and they’re probably right. Which is precisely the problem.

4. Most of the way, the film feels more like a documentary about the couple than a corrosive study of either of them. (Albeit a glossy, lacquered one that seems more interested in set design than capturing an actual moment in time. Thomas Newman’s distracting, pay-attention-here-something-important’s-happening score doesn’t help either.) But, twice, Michael Shannon shows up. The actor, playing the disturbed son of the Wheelers’ older neighbors, doesn’t so much steal the movie as he does rip it to shreads, living everyone else to pick up afterwards. He’s a Greek chorus, the guy who arrives just in time to rip out the guts of everyone involved and then move along. (His last line will make you gasp.) It’s a hammy role, and a bit of a cheat — he appears to be watching the movie along with us, commenting, rather than being an actual character — but does he ever give a kick in the pants right when the film needs it. Whenever he’s on screen, the movie drops its quiet sense of propriety and turns into something raw, urgent and terrifying. A movie full of this would have been too much; two scenes is just right. When everyone spends all their time lying to each other and themselves, a batshit crazy truth teller is gonna break some china right good.

5. The last scene of the film is perfect because it has something the most of the rest of the film lacks: Humor. So much is pitched so black that the film’s almost afraid to see the absurdity of it all: These are, after all, just two people, and their problems tend to come with the price tag of a hill of beans. (It’s another reason Shannon is welcome; his line readings are so crisp that you laugh just to soften the blow.) After a while, you want to say: OK, maybe you two should just get a divorce. I know it’s the 50s, but it happens. The film cares about the Wheelers, and it sympathizes with them, but it’s not clear what it wants to say about them. Here’s a thought experiment: If she doesn’t get pregnant, do they really drop everything and move to Paris? Really? I’m not sure the film has the answer. And I’m not sure it makes a compelling enough case as to why this is all so terribly important anyway. In a season when filmmakers have focused so much on the big picture than the human angle, Revolutionary Road has the opposite problem. You occasionally want to remind the Wheelers that the world is continuing, around them, despite their problems. But these is the picking of nits. There are moments of real power, quiet beauty and distinct, if distant, pain. The Wheelers spend their lives both fighting against and comforting to complacency, and it drives them both insane. Shame they couldn’t have had the same perspective as the mental patient next door.

GRADE: B+

Smart stuff. But: Read the book. Most of the answers to 2. are there. Also, the word divorce—or the concept, really—never comes up. It’s not entirely clear if these two ever come to grips with the notion that they may be happier apart. It’s just not in their emotional vocabulary. Maybe that’s brainwashing and maybe it reflects a strangely dignified sort of devotion.

4:38pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZVHLby3x1h8
(Notes: 36)
  
  1. winther-fahrzeuge reblogged this from leitch
  2. istoselidon5y668 reblogged this from leitch
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  4. seanfennessey reblogged this from leitch and added:
    Smart stuff. But: Read...word divorce—or...concept,...
  5. meredithbklyn reblogged this from leitch and added:
    Leitch is mostly exactly right again. However, my main problem while watching...knew...
  6. leitch posted this