FILM

Marriage Story Might Help You Understand Your Parents' Divorce

Divorce is an emotionally turbulent ride, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

Admittedly, I'm a little late to the hype train for Marriage Story, director Noah Baumbach's movie about a spiraling divorce between two people who still care about each other.

For months, seemingly every other article in the entire cine-sphere has been about how Marriage Story is Netflix's best movie of the year or how Adam Driver walked out of an interview after they showed a clip of him singing or how dancing Scarlett Johansson is a meme now.

So I got it. Marriage Story was supposed to be very good. But in spite of the accolades, I decided to hold off on watching it immediately. I had a feeling that, having grown up as a child of divorce, Marriage Story might induce some unpleasant flashbacks. I wanted to make sure I was in the right headspace to properly deal with that before going in.

To some extent, I was right. There are a lot of elements of Marriage Story that I imagine will drum up painful memories, both for people who have gone through divorces themselves and children who watched their parents go through the process. The most memorable scene in Marriage Story, perhaps, is the vicious argument between Adam Driver's Charlie and Scarlett Johansson's Nicole, wherein all of Charlie's pent up rage, both at Nicole and the divorce process, explodes. It's a scene absolutely surging with raw emotion, and it reminded me of all the fights I grew up watching at home.

But what truly makes Marriage Story great, aside from the impeccable performances from Driver and Johansson, is the catharsis it offers throughout. Baumbach's exploration of divorce is extremely nuanced, treating both of its lead characters with compassion and empathy. The movie opens with Charlie and Nicole reading letters that convey the things they love about one another, portraying both characters as exceedingly real. In the same way that sometimes people fall out of love over time, sometimes the same thing we once loved about someone transforms into something irreconcilable.



For instance, at one point in their relationship, Nicole loved Charlie's sense of direction in life and his ability to seemingly always know exactly what he wanted to do. But as their relationship proceeded, the downsides to that trait came into starker focus––Charlie always knew what he wanted to do, in large part, because he valued his own opinion and wants above everyone else's. Eventually, Nicole's love for that aspect of Charlie soured into the feeling that she had lost her own identity throughout their relationship.

The point to all of this is that, a lot of the time, children of divorce have a hard time reconciling two distinct images of their parents––the first image being their parents in a functioning relationship with one another and the second image being their parents as bitter enemies. Of course, this isn't true for all divorces, but it certainly was for me. Naturally, as children we oftentimes choose between our parents. But the beauty of Marriage Story is in its ability to show us an intricate, sometimes brutal conflict between two mostly decent people without making us pick a side.

Both Charlie and Nicole's hardships through the divorce process are on full display, and both believe that they're doing the right thing. They both love their son. Their relationship was complex, failing for multiple reasons, and their contempt is complicated by the fact that they both still care about one another. And after the dust settles, they figure out a way to be co-parents, even if it's not ideal for either party.

In a sense, Marriage Story is an almost wholesome view of divorce, ultimately conveying the message that even though divorce is harsh, brutal, awful even, eventually it will be over. And once it's over, people can heal, and people can change, and people who care about their children can continue to be there for them. My prevailing feeling by the end of Marriage Story wasn't bitterness or sadness, but hope. It's an emotionally turbulent ride, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

In the real world, people are much more complicated than whatever black-and-white images we may have of them from specific points in our lives. People change over time, and if they can change for the worse, maybe they can also change for the better. And while every relationship is certainly complex and entirely different, perhaps Marriage Story will help you look at whatever divorce lies in your past with a fresh perspective.

FILM

How "The Farewell" Came to Be the Best Movie of 2019

Lulu Wang's The Farewell encapsulates the absurdity, frustration, warmth, and depth of family dynamics.

A24

In an interview with The Ringer's Sean Fennessey, The Farewell's director, Lulu Wang, explained how she wanted to prove it was possible to make a film about people who looked like her but with whom all people can identify.

The very personal story "based on an actual lie" grapples with what's culturally acceptable in the East and the West. The Farewell follows a very indie protagonist, Billi, a 30-year-old first generation Chinese-American writer living in New York City, struggling to make ends meat. Billi's life becomes more complicated when she discovers her grandmother, Nai Nai (Zhao Shuzhen), has Stage 4 lung cancer and that her parents are leaving in the morning for China to say goodbye. The catch: No one is telling Nai Nai she's sick. Sitting in her parents' bedroom, Billi's mother, Jian (Diana Lin), turns to assure her daughter, "Chinese people have a saying: When you get cancer, you die."

Initially, Lulu Wang struggled to sell the film to both American and Chinese investors. With a Chinese-American as the protagonist, The Farewell was "too American" for Chinese investors; but with the cast primarily speaking in Mandarin, the film was "too Chinese" for American investors. In America, Hollywood executives might as well have a saying, "When there are subtitles, people won't want to watch the movie."

After years of fighting to make the film, Wang considered leaving the industry—that was until she met This American Life producer, Neil Drumming. At a film festival where her 2015 short film, Touch, was playing, Drumming asked her if there were any stories she hadn't been able to tell. Their conversation spun into the creation of an episode called "What You Don't Know." The episode is on the exact story explored in The Farewell.

The movie featured the unexpected casting choice of Awkwafina (born Nora Lum) as Billi. The director didn't expect to cast the YouTuber-turned-rapper-turned-actor in the film, especially because Lum is largely known to be Korean-American. But then Wang discovered that she's in fact half-Korean, half-Chinese. When the two met, the actress immediately fell in love with the script. Lum herself was raised by her Chinese grandmother after her Korean mother passed away when she was four years old. Awkwafina's connection to the film translated into a warm, heart-wrenching performance.

The film itself is primarily set in China, with Billi spontaneously buying a flight to Changchun against her parents' wishes. The entire family is concerned that Billi will not be able to hide her true emotions about her grandmother's diagnosis and will end up revealing the truth. In China, the family has a collectivist mindset, prioritizing the unit over the individual, and the audience comes to see that perhaps there is something to be said for keeping Nai Nai's diagnosis from her. Viewers are faced with the choice between harsh honesty and protecting someone's emotional well-being, a dilemma that clearly strikes a chord with conflicted audiences.

Meanwhile, the film operates at a nexus of celebration and mourning. In Nai Nai's eyes, the family reunion is occurring because her grandson (Billi's cousin), Hao Hao, is getting married to his Japanese girlfriend, Aiko. The wedding also brings together two brothers, Billi's father, Haiyan (Tzi Ma), and Hao Hao's father, Haibin (Jiang Yongbo), for the first time in twenty years. Nai Nai is elated by her children's reunion, contrasted with her family members' sadness that this is the last time they'll see Nai Nai. While the family members attempt to maintain Nai Nai's ignorance, she is giddily planning the wedding and lovingly feeding her relatives.

A24

Zhao Shuzhen, who plays Nai Nai, envelops herself in the warmth and pride of a grandmother who gains purpose from her family's reunion. Shuzhen seems to miraculously embody every family member you've ever had—the one who gives sound advice, the one who feeds you endlessly, the one who questions your romantic life, the one who dishes out perfect, hilarious soundbites, and the one who acts like a third parent.

Nai Nai represents so many parents; she aspires to give her children a better life and to see them thrive as independent people. Shuzhen's performance is a heartwarming, destructive force that gives hope and draws light in a film full of despair. She adds love and much needed laughter as the film grapples with how one can enjoy their time with a loved one on the heels of an impending, final goodbye.

As Billi spends more time with her grandmother, she becomes more nostalgic for her early life in China. Recognizing that she's been away from her family all these years, Billi grows resentful towards her parents because they took her from her home country. Any first-generation immigrant can relate to the loneliness of being disconnected from their relatives and their culture. Similarly, any person can relate to longing for more time with their older relatives—wanting to know more about them and establishing a true love for one another despite generational differences. While Billi's inner conflicts come to a head, she begins to come to terms with who she is and what she values.

In the end, The Farewell accomplishes just what Lulu wanted—it's a movie any person can watch and see a reflection of their own life. Anyone who has lost a family member or felt conflicting emotions about their weird, dysfunctional, but loving family can relate to Wang's deeply personal film. Conversely, the film flourishes in the specifics of who this story is really about: a first generation Chinese-American woman, struggling to accept her grandmother's illness while growing fond of and grappling with her familial bonds and cultural roots. Lulu Wang's film harmonizes the powerful feelings of guilt, uncertainty, wonderment, merriment, and catharsis, and does so without skipping a beat.