Tears normally blur the vision. But Noah Baumbach's "Marriage Story" suggests otherwise because the more frequent the crying, the clearer the movie's palette become. The director-writer premiers all the realness during the break-up of a marriage, but Baumbach reconstructs the ruins like a visionary. His film magnifies marriage as a format of rediscovering familial bonds in gorgeously cut frames. Scarlett Johansson as Nicole Barber produces an absorbingly visceral approach in "Marriage Story." She is a theater-television actress, a wife, and a mother somewhat craving more from life which pushes her to seek a divorce with husband Charlie Barber, played by the beguillingly dandy Adam Driver, who happens to be her theater director. Nicole then consults marriage specialist lawyer Nora Fanshaw -- depicted by Laura Dern with enchanting manipulations that she is a believably inducing con artist. Nora's artistry is her dedication to knowing her client, complete with sympathetic gestures and calculated positions on-screen as if "Marriage Story" is her stage to perform her con on: reshaping the client's perception to win the divorce. Dern is especially cunning during her monologue about God being the archetype of parenthood, claiming, "It's f----- up. But that's the way it is." Audiences will want to believe her for if they did not, any higher being will divorce them on the spot. Contributing to Nora's vile yet glamorous persona is the production set constructed by Jade Healy who expertly maneuvers space like instruments of empathetic persuasion. She crafts Nora's office: a wide sanctuary for spouses looking for comfort, the decorations strategically placed so the lawyer can instantly pick them up when needed. An example is when Nicole babbles into a sob and Nora, sitting grandly in her throne-esque sofa, grabs a box of tissue suspiciously laying on the table beside her so she can hand it automatically to the crying lady. At surface-level, it is a basic humane move but underneath the consoling demeanor are the years of lawyering forging consolation into a professional act. The production set is almost another character in "Marriage Story," illustrating its command on the film's emotionality. While the divorce is ongoing, Charlie, who is directing a play in New York is forced to get an apartment in Los Angeles, where Nora stays and the suit was filed in, to prove residency. Production designer Healy constructs a room evidently small yet appears an eyeful because of her space management. The vastness in such a tight frame conveys the growing apart of Charlie and Nora despite their closeness shared in a mutual life.
"Marriage Story" sews its set and framing with help from cinematographer Robbie Ryan who effectively presents the presence of space. The lighting and camera angle must be coolly blended hence the efficiently placed lens so the viewers can see through the sentimental proximity of any room the characters walk into. When director Baumbach calls for a shot of Charlie and Nicole in said apartment, a striking moment happens as the former walks in the kitchen divided from the living area where the latter stands. The shot of Charlie in the pantry while Nora is in the living room, separated by an invisible divider, connotes the spouses' split. It is metaphorical divorce, the arch of the kitchen entrance being the line that separates the husband and wife captured in poignant pastel by Ryan. Charlie in the kitchen is draped in wood-tones, relating to his darkly frail, stressful time during the divorce; whereas Nicole in the common area is captured in bright yet fading undertones to mimic her vibrant hope deteriorating in their marriage. Baumbach and Ryan's technical grandiose is exemplified again in the couple's argument, pulling Charlie into the bedroom with Nicole looking on from the outside through the door frame. The shot is made into a narrow angle where Charlie's entirety is crammed in thin vision, showing the narrow-mindedness of angry people when debating. So "Marriage Story" rallies to a spectacle of Driver and Johansson bulging sensibilities out of their souls in an acting showdown. The screenplay is exceptionally shrewd when Driver screams, "Life with you was joyless!" to a late Johansson counter, "You are such a d---!" At this semi-climax, Driver explodes to free-falling sentiments. He tries subduing the sorrow and fury, yet Charlie's human fragility permeates while thoroughly dissolving in a heap of flesh and tears. Just as Driver melts down, Johansson radiates with overpowering vehemence that can only be tamed when Nora clemently sees Charlie doused from weeping. Baumbach's script has hilarious viciousness which launches "Marriage Story" onto entertainment stratosphere where chuckling is equal parts excruciating as sobbing. Like in a real break-up, both parties know they are happy and lonely just the same. Though it is a wonder "Marriage Story" glues intrigue when the protagonists are a divorcing couple. Who would want to watch two hours of splitting spouses? Thus, Baumbach adds a third party: Henry (Azhy Robertson), the couple's 10-year-old son, so audiences can invest in the family's heartache on the verge of breaking. Still, "Marriage Story" extracts a fascinating anti-thesis: a marriage is independent of familial duties, nevertheless, family depends on each other. Director: Noah Baumbach Photo/Trailer (c) Netflix; YouTube.com
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