Marriage Story

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson, Laura Dern, Alan Alda, Ray Liotta, Azhy Robertson, Julie Haggerty, Merritt Wever, Mark O' Brien, Mickey Sumner, Wallace Shawn
Running Time: 136 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Noah Baumbach's Marriage Story opens with a husband and wife each running down a list of the qualities they most admire in their spouse. It goes on for what seems to be about 10 minutes, as we basically learn everything there is to know about each of them as the other supplies a voice-over narration. You're hanging on their every word while watching what amounts to a brief distillation of their everyday lives and basking in the small, everyday details that tell you everything you need to know about these people. And they're both really likable. Smart, funny, ambitious and best of all, they seem like good parents. For a while, you even forget that the other shoe's about to drop, before realizing they're in a therapist's office on the cusp of a divorce, speaking the last nice words we'll hear from them for the rest of the film. Either to or about one another.

From a legal standpoint, this film is probably the most thorough look at the bitter dissolution of a marriage since Kramer vs. Kramer, to which it's already been endlessly and favorably compared. That it comes from Noah Baumbach is of little surprise since every film he writes and directs feels like the kind of project Woody Allen's been failing to make for the past twenty years. If that's the case, then this is Baumbach's Annie Hall, or easily his richest since The Squid and the Whale, which also looked at the nasty fallout from divorce. Few are better chroniclers of human behavior, with an innate ability to zero in on characters' flaws and quirks in ways both dramatically profound and comical.

This is one of his finer examples yet, as he doesn't once step wrong in his depiction of perfectly nice people destroying each other because the system is set up in such a way that they must. Growing apart. Irreconcilable differences. Whatever you want to call it, both go into this process with the noblest, sincerest of intentions before realizing some things must be left up to lawyers and the courts because the whole reason they separated is that they can't agree on gigantic life decisions. Soon, everything's up to the courts and it's a grudge match. Mom vs. Dad.  Los Angles vs. New York. Even Television vs. Broadway.

Successful New York theater director Charlie Barber (Adam Driver) and his wife, former teen movie actress Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) are at a crossroads. Charlie wants them to stay in the New York to raise their 8-year old son, Henry (Azhy Robertson) as he finalizes plans to take his latest production to Broadway, but Nicole wants to head back home to L.A. after being offered a big role in a television pilot. After starring in his plays and raising the profile of his theater company, she's ready to do something for herself and translate this newfound credibility as a stage actress into a Hollywood comeback. It's credibility Charlie feels she wouldn't have if not for the opportunity he gave her, feeling she owes him and the company to stay, frequently putting off any talk of a potential west coast move.

When it becomes clear Nicole's going to L.A., and maybe even staying, with or without him, they separate, determined to amicably divorce without the involvement of lawyers. But when Nicole stays in California with Henry and hires flashy attorney Nora Fanshaw (Laura Dern) to represent her, Charlie's forced to lawyer up himself, having to choose between sleazy, money-hungry Jay Marotta (Ray Liotta) and kind, retired family attorney, Bert Spitz (Alan Alda) in his effort to take his son back to New York. The war is on, with Charlie and Nicole doing saying things that would have seemed unimaginable only a few months earlier. And now they must decide how much they're willing to hurt each other to get what they want, rarely stopping to consider the permanent damage it could be inflicting on their family.

Baumbach does such an exceptional job establishing how far these two have drifted in what seems like a relatively short time, but has been building far longer. While spouses working together may seem like the perfect recipe for marital disaster, it's oddly Nicole's desire to take her career in another direction and Charlie's unwillingness to make certain sacrifices for it that lead to trouble. What's scary is how both initially tackle their separation from a superficially understanding place until they realize the stakes and get attorneys involved. Nicole's mother, Sandra (a delightfully flighty Julie Haggerty) and sister Cassie (Merritt Wever) are so against her divorcing Charlie you'll wonder whose side they're on, leading to a hilarious scene where the latter is roped into clumsily serving him the actual papers. And it makes sense they'd be on his side. He's a good father, seemingly well-liked by everyone and admired by his peers in an industry where people depend on him for his intelligence and creativity.

Charlie's someone who's used to getting what he wants but what makes Driver's performance so inventive is how he hides that while simultaneously being all about it when Charlie's called out. The actor has two or three huge scenes that are so perfectly calibrated in that they make all the other scenes and performances around it better, while occupying residency in your mind long after the credits roll. The most memorable is essentially an inverse of the film's opening, as Charlie and Nicole, now suddenly in the throes of an ugly visitation battle, scream insults at each another until he eventually crosses the line, collapsing in tears on the floor realizing what he's just said. Her reaction is equally shocking, highlighting just how complicated this whole thing is, as well as how few relationship dramas dare even going to these uncomfortably realistic places.

In another scene that's both hilarious and pathetically relatable, a visit from a court-appointed social worker (played by Martha Kelly) to observe Charlie with Henry turns into a complete fiasco, as his insistence in proving everything's fine just further compounds the problem, resulting in an embarrassing medical emergency that Baumbach and the Driver couldn't have juggled any better. There's also an emotionally gut-wrenching musical number late in the film that comes seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere at once, delivering all the more magnificently because of it, with Driver stripping down Charlie's pain and bewilderment in the most public of venues, his hurt exposed for all to witness.

While everone's justifiably raving about Driver's work, Johansson might have the tougher job in a considerably less showy role, with Nicole in constant danger of being classified as the bitchy antagonist in Charlie's story. Of course, doing that simplifies the film's many complexities and the real problem at hand, or at least part of it. That she feels written out of her own life, taking action for the first time and doing what she wants instead of depending on him for support or approval that may never come. Right or wrong, it's this distrust that causes her to lawyer up in a big way. There's no way to determine how much of Johansson's success here stems from playing an actress and channeling some of the creative difficulties in that industry, but rarely has she fit a role as well as  Nicole.

Johansson's provided strong support by Laura Dern, whose feisty attorney Nora Fanshaw represents what she wants: complete autonomy in her life and career. Dern really takes care of business, bolstering what would otherwise be a forgettable role by taking charge of every scene and moment in which she appears. Liotta, and especially Alda, deliver in smaller doses, even if their characters seem to represent certain "types" of lawyers working within the system. Ironically enough, the performance that's gone most underpraised comes from Azhy Robertson as Henry, the young boy caught in the middle of this mess, and seeming fully aware that something's happening with his parents, even if he's not quite old enough to qualify exactly what. He shows his frustration in oddly specific ways that register both big and small, looking upon their situation with an honest, plain-spoken curiosity his parents could probably learn a lot from if they listened. But that's the point. No one can listen.

It's no secret that Baumbach's script is at least semi-autobiographical, making it easier to argue he stacks the deck in Charlie's favor, even if an equally compelling case can be made that Nicole gets exactly what she wants. But the very idea of "winning" and "losing" does very much cut to the crux of what this does end up being about, whether or not the characters ever wanted it that way. Evidence suggested they didn't, but like so many couples breaking up, got caught up in the tide. Because of this, Marriage Story feels bigger than both of them, zeroing in on the fact that most relationships end long before any legal proceedings are underway. And if these two couldn't make it, who can? The end suggests compromise might be possible, but not without a whole lot of pain. The real accomplishment is that we somehow walk away still liking and relating to both of them, while laughing at the absurdity of it all the entire time. It's a nearly impossible balancing act, but one made to look easy by the caliber of talent involved.