To be honest, Netflix’s main reason Malcolm and Marie, a film that I started and stopped no less than five times before finally completing it, sparked my interest in its aesthetics, which seemed to be an obvious homage to the iconic 1966 Mike Nichols film Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. I thought it was a banquet.
To like Woolf, Malcolm and Marie is filmed in black and white and features a couple falling apart. It was written and directed by Sam Levinson, the man behind Euphoria, HBO’s successful program following the lives of distressed teenagers. Most of the story revolves around its main characters, played by John David Washington and Zendaya, a couple who do not make a fuss when it comes to solving the ills of their toxic relationship. It sounds interesting, right? Well, since its release last Friday, the film has been seriously skinned and, at the time of writing, it has a terrible 58% on Rotten Tomatoes.
Filmed in July 2020 during the first quarantine months, the film was born out of conversations that Zendaya had with Levinson, specifically about “life in the past two years, about collaboration, about representation, about the film industry,” said Levinson in a recent joint interview with Zendaya. (According to the Deadline, Zendaya “begged Levinson to write a closed film that she could fit into before starting her next one. Spider man movie. ”) But while the film is certainly viewable and has already become the subject of many memes, it quickly became apparent that it is nothing more than a superficial imitation of the old Hollywood greatness, influenced by a script – with many ideas that are not sufficiently scrutinized – it does your actors no favors, who are trying their best.
The film begins with the couple returning home from the premiere of Malcolm’s film. Malcolm remembers how the night went, including how the critics were so delighted with him, but it is clear that Marie, his muse and romantic partner, is upset. After a few comings and goings, Marie reveals that during her speech Malcolm did not thank her, a dig that was made even worse by the fact that her film is based on her life, as a woman who dealt with drug addiction in her teens and her teens. first twenty years. From the moment Marie reveals this, the seams of their relationship begin to unravel. “It’s psychotic to think that forgetting to thank is a symbol of anything other than me legitimately forgetting to thank the fuck,” says Malcolm, defensive. “Malcolm, you thanked 1,200 fucking people,” replies Marie.
This bitter exchange is just one example of several scattered throughout the film, where the couple verbally breaks up, in ways that are very painful to witness. But the story never really takes off. His arguments are repeated over and over again and are punctuated by long and exhausting soliloquies (mainly from the Washington character) that seem like a job to get through – and I’m just a spectator! For example, there is a scene in which Malcolm tries to criticize a critic, someone referred to repeatedly as the “white lady of the LA Times”. At first, Marie laughs while Malcolm wears out while speaking, but then she starts yawning while he – for what really looks like 10 minutes – criticizes critics and their interpretation of the art. “You are the reason why they make this old, safe, stagnant and turgid shit in the first place!” Malcolm yells. He ends his speech by saying that he expects the writer, who actually wrote a positive review of his film, to end up “fucking carpal tunnel until her hands atrophy and cramp and she can no longer write meaningless trash like this!” He then falls onto the sofa, panting.
The scene definitely looks like frustration that Levinson, who is white, is trying to resolve himself. There is another line in the film where Malcolm says: “The fact that Barry Jenkins is not gay – that’s what he did Moonlight so universal? ”As a filmmaker, Malcolm believes that a film is a presentation of how someone interprets reality. His constant disdain for critics stems from how they engage in their work. He is furious when talking about critics who consider other factors, such as the main character’s race or, say, the filmmaker’s gender, when they are criticizing his art. (While Malcolm reads the review, the reviewer writes that he is “revealing a woman’s trauma” by including a scene in which the main character appears shirtless. Marie, who moments earlier reminded her partner that the review is good, sides with the critic, saying, “I’m sure she just doesn’t think nudity was necessary.”)
“You can’t depend on identity,” Malcolm says during his impossibly long response. “You can’t say that I brilliantly subverted this troop because I’m black, but I fell for it because I’m a damn man!” Levinson is apparently trying to argue that the filmmaker’s identity is irrelevant, but the speech quickly turns into ineffective when it comes to autism.
And that is the main problem with the film. It’s bright and fun to look at, but overall it looks kind of cooked. The film looked set to be one of the prominent pieces of art made during the pandemic. Two people discussing their problems at home, with nowhere else to go, look a lot like the life that has been for much of the country in the past year. But because the film was so rushed – it was written in six days and shot in two weeks – the characters never go beyond the caricature.
Movie critic Clarisse Loughrey he liked the film for its barrier-free depiction of damaging relationships, just as fine-line critics should avoid “looking as solipsistic as Malcolm himself”. writer David Dennis Jr. I didn’t see it that way, calling the film “an endless roll of a man terrorizing a woman who was emotionally trapped in a house, unable to escape”. Poisonous relationships have been the basis of a lot of incredible art, but it would have been more powerful if the film explored the relationship beyond the cheap insults the couple threw at each other. Malcolm and Marie it would also have been better investigated by deepening the power imbalance between the two, as writer Candice Frederick recently highlighted in a criticism of Elle. Marie’s story is essentially stolen from her by her partner, but the film presents the two as if they were on an equal footing.
To quote Martha, a character from Elizabeth Taylor, from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, “I am Mother Earth and you are all failures.” Malcolm and MarieAt first glance, it may have the veneer of a great film, but it is really a nothingburger disguised as a steak. ●