MARRIAGE STORY: Noah Baumbach's Magnum Opus On Marriage, Divorce and Relationships

Genre: Comedy, Drama

Produced by: David Heyman, Noah Baumbach    

Directed by: Noah Baumbach  

Written by: Noah Baumbach 

Production Company: Netflix 

Starring: Scarlett Johansson, Adam Driver, Laura Dern, Alan Alda, Ray Liotta, Julie Hagerty, Merritt Wever, Wallace Shawn, Azhy Robertson  

Runtime: 136 minutes 

SYNOPSIS: 

Stage director Charlie Barber (Adam Driver) and actress Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) are colleagues-turned-married couple who decide to end their association both creatively and, most crucially, romantically. Having agreed beforehand that they intend to do so amicably while also trying to keep the family together for the sake of their only son Henry (Azhy Robertson), their situation becomes gradually more complicated when they start bringing in lawyers to help them with their case, which further test the strengths and strains of their relationship. 

REVIEW: 

Noah Baumbach’s films are basically the equivalent of a person writing his own autobiography as he goes along. That is an apt description of an artist who considers his private life as his creative muse. Baumbach’s third directorial effort, and quite possibly his signature work to date, the indie comedy-drama the Squid and the Whale (2005) epitomized everything there is to know about his filmmaking and storytelling approach as he took inspiration from his parents’ divorce to create an all-time masterpiece that not only put his name out on the industry’s map as a highly regarded filmmaker of the 21^st century, but also garnered him his first ever Academy Awards nomination for Best Original Screenplay in 2006. Since then, he has continued to establish himself as one of the most dedicated, consistent voices for low-budget, human-interest stories, even if many major studios and film theater chains in general have slowly but surely abandoned those kinds of films. But still, the blockbuster state of modern-day cinema doesn’t stop Baumbach from sticking to his guns, even if it means having to put out his content on Netflix, a film studio that generally only gives its films limited theatrical release window before it is out on their streaming service platform, and in the comforts of people’s homes.  

Satisfied with their previous collaboration in the critically-acclaimed the Meyerowitz Stories (2017), Baumbach’s twelfth feature-length endeavor Marriage Story marks his second ever collaboration with the streaming giant and, like every Noah Baumbach films these days, the film is loaded with big stars from top-to-bottom, ranging from Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson in the leading roles to veteran character actors such as Laura Dern, Ray Liotta and Alan Alda taking on the supporting roles. It’s another original screenplay of his that’s not based on any existing property and also a passion project, having come up with the idea as far back as 2016, three years after his highly publicized divorce with actress/frequent collaborator Jennifer Jason Leigh back in 2013, which this story is loosely based on despite its ironic-sounding title. 

Marriage Story is Baumbach’s magnum opus to his renowned semi-autobiographical style of storytelling and a fitting culmination too to his entire filmmaking career thus far. His latest venture is a constantly riveting, deeply personal and wistfully mature portrait of an everyday American family in the midst of crisis, one which sees him revisit familiar themes of marriage, divorce and relationships in new, interesting ways. The film once again demonstrates the filmmaker’s uncanny ability to churn out a timeless work of intimate scale and yet with boldly progressive ideas on its mind. 

Marriage Story almost feels like an old, faded photo album coming into life, as the filmmaker lovingly sorts through the pages of his past memories and remembers each and every one of those pictures with such vivid detail and nuance it’s the rare cinematic experience that seamlessly blurs the fine line between fact and fiction, pulling its audience even closer into his inner self.  

Baumbach clearly has a firm grasp on the material, writing and directing what is no doubt a well-written and well-executed emotional rollercoaster worth riding. Marriage Story is a visceral, kaleidoscopic rush, making it all the more impressive that it is somehow capable of pulling the double duty as an oddly optimistic parable about familial reconciliation and a brutally unflinching cautionary tale about marital deterioration with considerable aplomb. A divorce drama in the vein of Robert Benton’s classic Kramer v. Kramer (1979), the film benefits greatly from a more rambling, episodic structure, which, in a lifelike way, reflects the divorcing couple’s conflicted mental and emotional state during the lengthy divorce process, with their seemingly civil, cordial daily life interactions outside the courtroom standing in stark contrast to the grueling, accusatory child custody battles when they’re inside it. 

In typical Baumbach fashion, Marriage Story pays full attention to its characters. His screenplay’s authentic portrayal of a married couple as three-dimensional, fully-formed people with good traits and flaws help quite possibly his most precious, close-to-home creations Nicole and Charlie Barber transcend the big, blustery clichés often found in films about people slowly falling out of love. In fact, the mutually considerate manner in which Nicole and Charlie handle a situation as unpleasant as a divorce serves as a wonderful reminder that, despite their irreconcilable differences, they are still human beings first and foremost, the kind of folks who has all the best intentions to solve their problem in a peaceful way and, most importantly, the kind anyone can relate to, especially those who have gone through a tough divorce or perhaps, is now going through it. 

Furthermore, Marriage Story manages to balance the darker shades of the Barber’s gradually declining married life with more than enough lightheartedness. There’s an immensely whimsical sweetness in its opening sequence that brings to mind the first ten minutes of Pixar’s Up (2009), cramming so much of their long, happy days as a married couple into a five minute montage and some lovely back-and-forth voice-over narrations between the two listing the things they love about each other. Throughout the film, Nicole and Charlie seems so likable and charming anytime they’re together in a parental, romantic couple kind of way that their inevitable downfall adds an extra tragic element to the rest of the story. Credit must be given to Baumbach though, who can communicate a lot about his characters with as little as a few minutes’ montage: here is a couple who cares deeply for each other, regardless of the situation. 

Marriage Story sometimes plays the idea of both Nicole and Charlie’s reluctance to outright hurt the other’s feelings for a few clever laughs, particularly in possibly the funniest moment not only in the first act, but also the entire film (which isn’t saying much for one that is predominantly a serious drama), involving Nicole forcing her sister Cassie (Merritt Wever) and mother Sandra (Julie Hagerty) to help her subtly hand Charlie the divorce papers, which put the three women and Charlie in a rather awkward situation where, as weird as this may sound, a pie is also in on it. 

As far as the minor characters go, Marriage Story delicately operates in that same moral gray area, especially with its refreshingly realistic, often insightful depiction of lawyers. The film represents a significant step forward in cinema’s evolving perspective of their character archetypes, in which Baumbach sidesteps the customary, black and white view of them as either only a heroic or a villainous figure and instead raises awareness on their law-abiding dedication and respect for the code of ethics and professional conduct. In other words, it’s a screenplay that humanizes their profession and makes them relatable by showing them as professionals whose conciliatory or ruthless approach to the Barber’s case stem from them simply doing their job no more and no less. 

Marriage Story provides a succinct and creative illustration of a lawyer’s life on and off duty by virtue of one simple scene involving all the divorce lawyers meeting up, discussing their proposition, where Nicole’s lawyer Nora Fanshaw (Laura Dern) goes from being the ruthless, win-at-all-cost type doing everything she can to dismantle Charlie’s credibility as a father and a husband to then being almost Charlie’s fangirl whenever the court is adjourned, taking huge interest in his work as a playwright and even briefly helping him read through a lunch menu. 

And the strongest aspect of Baumbach’s well-rounded storytelling in Marriage Story is that it treats both Nicole and Charlie fairly. The film wisely encapsulates the thought process of everyone involved in the case, never taking any sides, let alone lionizes or vilifies them, and respecting their pleas, as if the filmmaker himself is handing over the role of the judge to the audience to decide themselves who is right and who is wrong. Beyond that, the film does a marvelous job on exploring how the couple’s impending divorce affects the family dynamic at home, the fact that Charlie’s New York residency, Nicole’s Los Angeles acting gig and their best efforts at giving Henry equal quality time with his parents only makes things even worse since the arrangement forces their son to constantly move back and forth between states. But it’s pleasant to see both Charlie and Nicole still giving it their all despite their restrictions and busy work life, like for instance Charlie teaching Henry, who is dyslexic, how to read properly. 

Marriage Story maintains an uneasy air of mounting tension, which is prevalent, even during the all-too-brief moments of tension-releasing catharsis, throughout its first act until everything reaches the inevitable breaking point. Much of the film’s uncompromising, grueling second act revolves around Nicole and Charlie trying to deal with their frustration at the long, winding legal process, his/her spouse’s selfishness and, to a certain extent, his/her own selfishness, setting off a chain reaction of events that leads to them spiraling down into ultimate self-destruction. 

Baumbach hits his audience hard and real fast all at once with the one-two gut punch of courtroom drama and domestic drama. In a way, the tense argument between their attorneys foreshadows the imminent mental breakdown that is about to unfold between Nicole and Charlie in the very next scene as their attempt to make peace with each other slowly and surely degenerates into one big shouting match over which one of them is to blame for their failing marriage. It is both heartbreaking and painful to see such a considerate married couple, even in the midst of disintegration, falls apart just like that, to the point where someone accidentally spews a hurtful remark to the other in the heat of the moment. 

Without spoiling anything, suffice it to say Marriage Story builds dramatically and yet steadily towards a resolution that puts Nicole and Charlie’s decision into perspective. Its final tender moments evoke the bittersweet wisdom of someone who has finally come to terms with his/her failed relationship and is now starting to appreciate the little things he/she has during the happier times in that relationship, things that he/she might have perceived as insignificant before in the past. Baumbach is the perfect kind of storyteller to take those seemingly insignificant, throwaway moments and give them deeper meaning, proving once and for all that this story’s end does justify its slice-of-life means. The film ties up all of its loose ends in ways that are gratifying, particularly this one scene where Henry’s arc and a Chekhov’s piece of paper, last seen early on during the couple’s disastrous couple counseling session with the marriage mediator (Robert Smigel), eventually converge into something quite heartwarming and therapeutic. 

But Baumbach’s utter devotion to his craft is also an essential aspect of Marriage Story’s storytelling power. Inspired by the two lead characters’ theatrical background, this film wears its influence proudly on its sleeve, evident from its very first shot that shows Nicole walking out of the darkness and into the spotlight, the camera now fixed on her face for quite a long time in a close-up as she is reciting a line from one of Charlie’s theatrical productions. His minimalist, almost stagey style is tailor-made for a character-driven story of this ilk where he often lets numerous dialogue-heavy or monologue scenes play out in long, uninterrupted takes with the main purpose of letting the human elements command the audience’s attention instead of the setting.  

Despite its seemingly uncinematic format, Marriage Story remains a gorgeously-shot film. Robbie Ryan’s moody cinematography deftly blends the naturally-lit grittiness of the sunny Los Angeles suburban area, the overcrowded New York streets, the enclosed space of the various courtrooms with a tiny splash of lush, vibrant psychedelic colors in Charlie’s plays, the latter of which to better convey the character’s out-there, arthouse artistic sensibilities. Randy Newman brings a familiar, yet welcome mix of playful and melancholic tunes to the table, emoting the highs and lows of married life with an affecting original score that’s reminiscent of his work in many Pixar tearjerkers, namely the Toy Story films. In a sense, Newman’s music is a nice companion piece to the film. Jennifer Lame’s impeccable editing adds a great level of urgency and energy in a lot of the dialogue-driven scenes, hence keeping a quiet, deliberately-paced film moving with the same underlying suspense as a ticking-clock thriller. 

Baumbach’s voice on the page and behind the camera is matched strength-to-strength by his massively talented cast, all of whom truly rise to the occasion big time. Like every Noah Baumbach films, the actors make the most of his ingenious screenplay, which succeeds in giving just about everyone at its filmmaker’s disposal the sort of juicy material that is certain to leave a lasting impression even long after the film ends, whether they’re the major characters or the supporting characters. Equal parts a two-hander and an ensemble piece, Marriage Story is purely an astounding acting achievement. 

Scarlett Johansson is ideally suited for the part, drawing from her real-life experience as an actress who has been through multiple high-profile divorces herself before to keep the similar struggle her character Nicole Barber is facing at the moment within the realm of believability. Johansson delivers a richly-layered, magnetic performance deserving of some awards consideration, conveying Nicole’s weariness, longing and heartbreak at certain facets of her rocky married life and acting career with such sincerity and emotional truth she does more than just play Nicole well, she is the very embodiment of her, which is a solid proof of her excellent work in this film. 

Adam Driver offers a substantial amount of gravitas and understated intensity to effortlessly evoke Nicole’s husband/playwright Charlie’s constant sense of anger and desperation. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star Johansson, Driver shows more than enough of his usual, one-of-a-kind dramatic credentials to be as worthy of the same accolades, channeling his inner Noah Baumbach in delving deeper into the headspace of his creator as a filmmaker and a human being respectively, someone who is humble and down-to-earth yet also somewhat ambitious and idealistic to a fault. He is one of those exceptional actors who can inject an endearing everyman quality to an occasionally selfish, pompous character. 

Collectively, Marriage Story lives and breathes through Driver and Johansson’s undeniable chemistry as the titular married couple. There’s such a palpable spark and strong sense of history within their every lighthearted interaction and tense arguments it’s as if these fictional characters Nicole and Charlie are just as real as its obvious real-life counterparts Jennifer Jason Leigh and Noah Baumbach, with the sort of relationship that appears like it lasted much longer than the film’s 136 minute runtime. 

With a confident spring in her step, Laura Dern exudes all the self-assured and sometimes ruthless authority required to inhabit Nora Fanshaw, a divorce lawyer who has been hired by Nicole to help her win her child Henry’s custody over Charlie. Alan Alda generates the sort of warmth and compassion that comes with old age in a brief, memorable appearance as Bert Spitz, a retired family lawyer prone to effusive chattering. On the other end of the spectrum, Ray Liotta is simply fierceness personified as the loud, boisterous, lavish lawyer Jay Marotta. Liotta carries himself with the same Hollywood tough guy verve and swagger as when he was Henry Hill in Goodfellas (1990) to serve as Dern’s character Nora’s equal in regards to lawyerly ruthlessness. 

Julie Hagerty is a great comic relief as Sandra, Nicole’s mother. Hagerty relishes the opportunity to poke fun at a mother’s clingy fondness towards her in-law Charlie in ways that are funny and loveable. Merritt Wever, playing Nicole’s sister Cassie, gets on the same wavelength as Hagerty, demonstrating what a versatile actress she is with her quirky, deadpan brand of humor. In a glorified cameo role, Wallace Shawn is a joy to watch, making a meal out of the little meat left from such a thankless, thinly-written character as Frank, an outspoken member of Charlie’s theatrical troupe who gives Charlie advice once in awhile about marriage. 

CONCLUSION: 

Marriage Story finds Noah Baumbach back in his wheelhouse with a funny, incisive and occasionally hard to watch examination into the disintegration of a dysfunctional family that’s bolstered by its two leads’ searing performances and a nuanced screenplay. 

Score: 10/10