“Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best. Divorce lawyers see good people at their worst.”
There is an argument to be made in Noah Baumbach’s Oscar-nominated drama ‘Marriage Story’ that neither Charlie nor Nicole are especially good people, but they are certainly sympathetic. Even when they are sinking to new lows, making things pettier and harder for each other, we find ourselves only wanting to draw closer and entangle ourselves in their messy, awkward lives. Especially when it comes to the central conflict of the film, neither of them are completely at fault – the only real antagonist in ‘Marriage Story’ is the divorce process, which is conducted more like a business transaction than a personal affair.
Once the lawyers get involved, the divorce starts to turn into a contest of who can emerge with more dignity intact. Somehow there is an expectation that none of this should be personal, but it absolutely is. Material possessions are completely irrelevant, but instead what is at stake is something far more central to our humanity and self-worth. Everything about Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson’s performances is vulnerable, drawing on a common longing for stability and anger directed at those who threaten it.
What is wonderful about ‘Marriage Story’ as an exploration of divorce isn’t just that we see how much the two repel each other, but that it is equally clear how they once fell in love and worked together as a couple. As romantic and professional partners, Nicole and Charlie share common interests and make up for each other’s shortcomings, illustrated in the opening sequence. Contempt is meaningless on its own, but by peeling back the layers to reveal the genuinely loving relationship it mutated from, the impact is even more devastating.
At first it appears that Baumbach isn’t doing a great deal of visually interesting work with the camera, especially since a lot of the colours are muted, but it is in his blocking of the actors within dialogue heavy scenes that he demonstrates his ability to weave a comfortable domesticity into even the tensest moments. When the characters air their frustrations, they use their actions almost as distractions, moving through their homes performing menial chores, and grounding themselves in the familiar even as they traverse new, difficult territory. The camera peeks at them through doors and glides with them down hallways, making us feel at home with Charlie and Nicole, and letting the growing tension become even more personal.
In one particular scene towards the end, movement is stripped back and the stillness of the actors becomes deeply uncomfortable. Charlie forces the appearance of a responsible relationship with his son, Henry, to impress a family-court evaluator, and yet in doing so he is suppressing their usual organic interactions. He no longer inhabits his home comfortably, and the fluidity that the rest of the film thrives off is suddenly gone, replaced with a stilted politeness. The idea that the insertion of bureaucracies into private lives is the death of naturalism and compassion pervades ‘Marriage Story’, and Baumbach’s direction of his actors to convey this is brilliantly effective.
The six nominations that ‘Marriage Story’ has received are mostly well deserved. The exception here is the nomination for Randy Newman’s score, which doesn’t add any depth or emotion to the film that isn’t already present in the performances or screenplay. Laura Dern is a clear frontrunner for Best Supporting Actress, and though it is unlikely that they will win in their respective categories, both Driver and Johansson are deserving of their own acting awards too. The autobiographical element of ‘Marriage Story’ may have provided a basis for Baumbach to shape this story into something personally meaningful, but it is his masterful cast direction and naturalistic dialogue that makes it such a rich, engaging experience for audiences.
