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.

Adam Driver'White Noise' premiere, New York Film Festival, USA - 30 Sep 2022

Photo by Stephen Lovekin/Shutterstock

With all the Golden Globes hype surrounding Netflix's Marriage Story, a familiar argument has once again resurfaced on social media: Is Adam Driver hot?

Normally, I'm not a fan of these Twitter circlejerks dwelling on the attractiveness of a particular "not conventionally attractive" celebrity. To be perfectly honest, these conversations strike me as deeply hypocritical, typically propelled by the same woke Twitter personalities who promote body positivity while simultaneously delighting in picking apart an (almost always) male celebrity's physical features.

But one Tweet amidst the recent Adam Driver fervor stood out to me, and I think it's worth discussion.

The Tweet comes courtesy of sociology professor and acclaimed author Tressie McMillan Cottom, who writes: "Straight men don't want Adam Driver to be hot because he is hot for reasons they could also be hot but aren't because they're lazy. He is interesting and has a personality. It's easier to think hot is just genetic symmetry because that lets them off the hook."

Cottom follows up with two subsequent Tweets, stating: "Although he is also tall, which yeah," and "Also, it is rumored that he is *signal drop*."

So first things first, let's address the fact that Cottom's follow-up Tweets do undermine her initial point (at least to some extent). Adam Driver is 6'2", and the suggestion that a tall, well-built, and allegedly well-hung man is not hitting a lot of conventionally attractive benchmarks is, well, just outright false. Adam Driver has a lot of features that do play into conventionally attractive standards, and I imagine life is a good deal harder for men who don't have any of those features.

I still think Cottom's original point mostly stands on its own. Judging by our celebrities, Western culture has certainly seemed to prop up symmetry, along with sharp, defined facial features, as a prerequisite for beauty. So when someone like Adam Driver––who, regardless of whether or not he's deemed "hot," is certainly not "symmetrical"––becomes a prominent object of women's desires, men who never balked at women drooling over Brad Pitt suddenly dig in their heels. "How could Adam Driver possibly be hot?" they wonder. There's subtext: "And if Adam Driver is hot, how come I'm not?"

But as Cottom points out, in spite of popular myth, there's a difference between "symmetrical" and "hot." In truth, there is no universal beauty standard. Different pockets of different cultures lean towards different aesthetics at different times, but by and large, there's no magic combination of features that will make a person attractive to everyone. That also means that, statistically speaking, there are some people somewhere in the world who will find you attractive, regardless of whether or not your features adhere to any culturally prevalent beauty standards.

So if we know that we're stuck with the bodies we have (give or take a little self-care) and that someone out there will find our features attractive, then it follows that our best course of action––if we want to be "hot" like Adam Driver––is to maximize our personalities and our interests.

Do women find Adam Driver hot because he's their perfect representation of the male form? Possibly. Does him being a talented actor who seems to have an incredibly deep appreciation for his craft and a solid sense of humor add to his attractiveness? Almost definitely.

And while we might not all have the potential to become an award-winning actor like Adam Driver, we do all have the potential to become really good at something. Almost all of us are capable of practicing something meaningful to us, or honing our skills pertaining to a particular interest or inclination. We're all capable of improving ourselves by some measure, be it how much weight we can lift or how funny our jokes are or simply how confident we are in our own skin––and improving yourself in any way will likely help with the latter.

The reason so many straight men are afraid of Adam Driver being hot is because if Adam Driver is hot, that means most of them can be hot, too. But being hot like Adam Driver requires hard work. It means not looking at your face in the mirror, deciding you don't meet whatever arbitrary standards of attractiveness you've decided to hold yourself up against, and then giving up on being a decent person worthy of being deemed attractive. And perhaps there's nothing quite scarier than the realization that your own "hotness," at least to the degree to which you'd be hot to a specific subset of people, hinges on your own actions and efforts rather than luck or genetics.

Of course, I'm speaking generally here, and general terms are never a catch-all. I'm sure that there's someone out there who truly is so physically unappealing that literally nobody else in the world would be sexually attracted to them. But at the same time, I've browsed through enough incel forums (out of curiosity) to know that for the vast majority of people who self-identify as being the lowest of the low on the totem pole of physical beauty, their self-assessment is almost always incorrect. The vast majority of them are totally normal looking guys who, I imagine, suffer from some degree of unchecked body dysmorphia.

But I'm not just talking about incels. Almost any guy who secretly struggles with his own self-image and wonders what it would take to be viewed as hot can learn a thing or two from Adam Driver. Cliches exist for a reason, and your personality counts for a whole lot. With some hard work––and the hardest part might be admitting there's work to be done in the first place––you, too, can be hot like Adam Driver.

TV

The Failed Diversity of "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" Season Three

We can't pretend the 1950s were this wholesome.

Stephanie Hsu Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Season III

Photo by Ovidiu Hrubaru (Shutterstock)

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel continues to deliver the same nostalgia and retro fashion that's earned the show audience acclaim and three Golden Globes.

In season 3, married showrunners Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino (Gilmore Girls) continue their comedic schtick of having characters speedwalk and speedtalk their way through scenes of chaos and slowing down to emphasize the impeccable retro scenery and pastel color palette that defines the show's 1950s wholesomeness. But this season, there is an attempt to address the show's dire lack of diversity (namely the absence of any non-white character) with three new charaters, played by magnetic talents: Midge (Rachel Brosnahan) tours with the celebrated singer Shy Baldwin (Leroy McClain) and his overbearing manager Reggie (Sterling K. Brown), while her ex-husband Joel (Michael Zegen) finds a new love interest Mei (Stephanie Hsu). Ultimately, Mrs. Maisel sticks to its same old formula of clever quips and introspective soliloquies set against gorgeous vintage backdrops, giving the series a predictability that, to some, provides an enjoyable, easy viewing experience, while to others it cripples the show's thematic scope.

So does Mrs. Maisel pass the diversity litmus test? No, not in any meaningful way. The series gets props for including people of color without tokenizing them as helpful best friends or quirky side kicks. Shy Baldwin is a charismatic but temperamental starlet who may or may not be based on a real-life idol of the '50s (Harry Belafonte seems to be the Internet's favorite guess). Sterling K. Brown plays his loyal friend and strict manager who antagonizes Midge and Susie (Alex Borstein) just enough to underscore the season's soft theme that Midge is going to have to get used to a wider, more complex audience beyond Manhattan's Upper West Side.

But that's where the show rings hollow, only touching on and skirting around issues like the Civil Rights Movement and segregation, which would have deeply impacted Midge's national tour with a famous African American singer and his predominantly black band. For instance, we see the tour's flashy performances in three major cities: Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and Miami. It's not until Miami that Midge learns that Shy and the band often aren't permitted to stay in the flashy hotels she's staying in, due to the rampant systemic racism of the 1950s. Las Vegas, in particular, was so racially segregated in the '50s and '60s that even renowned black performers who were invited to perform (such as Harry Belafonte) were forced to enter and leave through back doors; simply, Las Vegas was called the "Mississippi of the West" during this era.

But anachronisms aside, the show earns a big win for its introduction of Stephanie Hsu, who plays Mei, the enigmatic young woman who helps Joel establish his night club in Chinatown. Aside from being the first speaking role an Asian actor has had on the series, Mei defies the era's stereotypes of women and the Asian community. After Joel encounters an illegal mahjong gambling parlor nearby, Mei introduces herself with the same fast-talking cleverness and self-assured air that define Joel's ideal "type" of woman, as his friend Archie tells him.

Most notably, 29-year-old Hsu is very aware of the (albeit small) step forward her character makes toward uplifting Asian American representation on American TV. The daughter of Chinese and Taiwanese immigrants, Hsu pursued acting (to her family's trepidation) and graduated from NYU's Tisch School of the Arts the same year as Brosnahan. Trained in experimental theater, Hsu was painfully aware of how few opportunities are given to Asian actors in the entertainment industry. As little as 1% of Hollywood's leadings roles go to Asian actors, while on Broadway, Asian-Americans only occupy 4% of roles. But Mei isn't just a rare opportunity for today's Asian performers; she's also a standout woman of the time period. "With Mei, to be a female in Chinatown and a medical student [in the 1960s] is one of the most badass things that a woman could possibly do," Hsu said. "It's not a stereotype at all, it's completely pushing the boundary of what was possible [at the time]. It was like a character I had never, ever seen or heard of on TV and, certainly, could have never even imagined."

Hsu uses her fluent Mandarin language skills to underscore many of Mei's cutting punchlines about Joel's ignorance about Chinatown. As one of New York's oldest and most insular communities, she's a conduit that "shines a beautiful light on this very integral part of New York culture that isn't often spoken about," according to Hsu. She adds, "I feel very honored to get to play [her]." She also told Teen Vogue, "I feel a certain type of obligation to be making more space for younger versions of me."

So while some critique, "It's good to see the show attempt diversity. But if all they're going to do is make jokes about gambling and Asian stereotypes, it's not helpful," that view loses sight of the overall context of the show. In episode six, the show forces Midge and Joel to hear from people of color exactly how the world works differently for them. When Joel pridefully confronts Mei about secretly helping him with his nightclub, she says, "Hey, John Wayne! If you haven't noticed, this is a very insular neighborhood. You can't get anything done if you don't have 'cousins'...Chinese 'cousins'...You don't know the language." She leaves while telling Joel off in Mandarin. Meanwhile, Midge is helping Shy recover from a very difficult night. While they're huddled in the dark together, Midge speedily offers ways she could improve his situation, including bringing him back to her hotel room. He gives her a sardonic, all-too-knowing look, "I can't go to your hotel. This is Florida; we don't stay in your hotels."

It's as if both moments, through language barriers and tense moments of silence, capture the show's dissonance between the wholesome retro-nostalgia The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel blindly offers viewers and the fraught social reality that it disregards.

FILM

The Golden Globes Still Pretend Female Directors Don't Exist

The Best Director nominations for the 77th Golden Globes completely omit women, but who's surprised?

Today, the nominations for the 77th Annual Golden Globes were unveiled.

It was a good year for Netflix productions, Scorcese, and Tarantino, but history has repeated itself in that women are, yet again, entirely absent from the Best Director category and immensely underrepresented throughout.

The Best Director nominees are Bong Joon-ho for Parasite, Sam Mendes for 1917, Todd Phillips for Joker, Martin Scorsese for The Irishman, and Quentin Tarantino for Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. (Other categories, including Best Motion Picture and Best Screenplay, were significantly male-leaning.) But as always, it's not like women haven't flashed their directing chops this year. Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Lulu Wang (The Farewell), Olivia Wilde (Booksmart), Greta Gerwig (Little Women), and Alma Har'el (Honey Boy) are all deserving of nominations at the very least—hey, that's enough to fill the entire category! Nominate them all!

Though the Golden Globes' glaring ignorance towards women hurts, it sadly doesn't come as a shock. Barbra Streisand is the sole woman to ever win Best Director in over seven decades of the Golden Globes; only four others have been nominated. Looks like Natalie Portman's viral call-out while presenting at the 2018 Golden Globes will remain evergreen.

Natalie Portman Notes the All-Male Director Nominees

Awards ceremony celebrating the best in TV and film; Seth Meyers hosts; Oprah Winfrey receives the 2018 Cecil B. de Mille Award.

Check out the very manly nominees below.

Best Motion Picture – Drama

"The Irishman" (Netflix)

"Marriage Story" (Netflix)

"1917" (Universal)

"Joker" (Warner Bros.)

"The Two Popes" (Netflix)


Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama

Cynthia Erivo ("Harriet")

Scarlett Johansson ("Marriage Story")

Saoirse Ronan ("Little Women")

Charlize Theron ("Bombshell")

Renée Zellweger ("Judy")


Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

Christian Bale ("Ford v Ferrari")

Antonio Banderas ("Pain and Glory")

Adam Driver ("Marriage Story")

Joaquin Phoenix ("Joker")

Jonathan Pryce ("The Two Popes")


Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy

"Dolemite Is My Name" (Netflix)

"Jojo Rabbit" (Fox Searchlight)

"Knives Out" (Lionsgate)

"Once Upon a Time in Hollywood" (Sony)

"Rocketman" (Paramount)


Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy

Ana de Armas ("Knives Out")

Awkwafina ("The Farewell")

Cate Blanchett ("Where'd You Go, Bernadette")

Beanie Feldstein ("Booksmart")

Emma Thompson ("Late Night")


Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy

Daniel Craig ("Knives Out")

Roman Griffin Davis ("Jojo Rabbit")

Leonardo DiCaprio ("Once Upon a Time in Hollywood")

Taron Egerton ("Rocketman")

Eddie Murphy ("Dolemite Is My Name")


Best Motion Picture – Animated

"Frozen 2" (Disney)

"How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World" (Universal)

"The Lion King" (Disney)

"Missing Link" (United Artists Releasing)

"Toy Story 4" (Disney)


Best Motion Picture – Foreign Language

"The Farewell" (A24)

"Les Misérables" (Amazon)

"Pain and Glory" (Sony Pictures Classics)

"Parasite" (Neon)

"Portrait of a Lady on Fire" (Neon)


Best Actress in a Supporting Role in Any Motion Picture

Kathy Bates ("Richard Jewell")

Annette Bening ("The Report")

Laura Dern ("Marriage Story")

Jennifer Lopez ("Hustlers")

Margot Robbie ("Bombshell")


Best Actor in a Supporting Role in Any Motion Picture

Tom Hanks ("A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood")

Anthony Hopkins ("The Two Popes")

Al Pacino ("The Irishman")

Joe Pesci ("The Irishman")

Brad Pitt ("Once Upon a Time in Hollywood")


Best Director – Motion Picture

Bong Joon-ho ("Parasite")

Sam Mendes ("1917")

Todd Phillips ("Joker")

Martin Scorsese ("The Irishman")

Quentin Tarantino ("Once Upon a Time in Hollywood")


Best Screenplay – Motion Picture

Noah Baumbach ("Marriage Story")

Bong Joon-ho and Han Jin-won ("Parasite")

Anthony McCarten ("The Two Popes")

Quentin Tarantino ("Once Upon a Time in Hollywood")

Steven Zaillian ("The Irishman")


Best Original Score – Motion Picture

Alexandre Desplat ("Little Women")

Hildur Guðnadóttir ("Joker")

Randy Newman ("Marriage Story")

Thomas Newman ("1917")

Daniel Pemberton ("Motherless Brooklyn")


Best Original Song – Motion Picture

"Beautiful Ghosts" ("Cats")

"I'm Gonna Love Me Again" ("Rocketman")

"Into the Unknown" ("Frozen 2")

"Spirit" ("The Lion King")

"Stand Up" ("Harriet")


Best Television Series – Drama

"Big Little Lies" (HBO)

"The Crown" (Netflix)

"Killing Eve" (BBC America)

"The Morning Show" (Apple TV Plus)

"Succession" (HBO)


Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series – Drama

Jennifer Aniston ("The Morning Show")

Olivia Colman ("The Crown")

Jodie Comer ("Killing Eve")

Nicole Kidman ("Big Little Lies")

Reese Witherspoon ("The Morning Show")


Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series – Drama

Brian Cox ("Succession")

Kit Harington ("Game of Thrones")

Rami Malek ("Mr. Robot")

Tobias Menzies ("The Crown")

Billy Porter ("Pose")


Best Television Series – Musical or Comedy

"Barry" (HBO)

"Fleabag" (Amazon)

"The Kominsky Method" (Netflix)

"The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" (Amazon)

"The Politician" (Netflix)


Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy

Christina Applegate ("Dead to Me")

Rachel Brosnahan ("The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel")

Kirsten Dunst ("On Becoming a God in Central Florida")

Natasha Lyonne ("Russian Doll")

Phoebe Waller-Bridge ("Fleabag")


Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy

Michael Douglas ("The Kominsky Method")

Bill Hader ("Barry")

Ben Platt ("The Politician")

Paul Rudd ("Living with Yourself")

Ramy Youssef ("Ramy")


Best Television Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

"Catch-22″ (Hulu)

"Chernobyl" (HBO)

"Fosse/Verdon" (FX)

The Loudest Voice (Showtime)

"Unbelievable" (Netflix)


Best Performance by an Actress in a Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

Kaitlyn Dever ("Unbelievable")

Joey King ("The Act")

Helen Mirren ("Catherine the Great")

Merritt Wever ("Unbelievable")

Michelle Williams ("Fosse/Verdon")


Best Performance by an Actor in a Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

Christopher Abbott ("Catch-22")

Sacha Baron Cohen ("The Spy")

Russell Crowe ("The Loudest Voice")

Jared Harris ("Chernobyl")

Sam Rockwell ("Fosse/Verdon")


Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Series, Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

Patricia Arquette ("The Act")

Helena Bonham Carter ("The Crown")

Toni Collette ("Unbelievable")

Meryl Streep ("Big Little Lies")

Emily Watson ("Chernobyl")


Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Series, Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

Alan Arkin ("The Kominsky Method")

Kieran Culkin ("Succession")

Andrew Scott ("Fleabag")

Stellan Skarsgård ("Chernobyl")

Henry Winkler ("Barry")