Netflix Review - Malcolm & Marie (2021)

Hollywood loves films about itself. In truth, so does every film fan and Sam Levinson’s Malcolm & Marie has filmmaking coursing through its veins, living and breathing the industry at every beat of its running time. That Levinson name gives you a clue, because the man at the helm is the son of legendary producer/director Barry, making him a son of Hollywood, one who’s carved out his own career.

He’s not unlike the Malcolm of the title who, while not from a moviemaking family, is about to have a moment – one that could mean the big time. And, like his protagonist, Levinson has transferred real life to the screen, using it as the starting point for the film. That moment when, in the middle of being celebrated, he forgot to thank his wife in his speech. Malcolm (John David Washington) does the same at the premiere of his film and it cuts girlfriend Marie (Zendaya) to the quick. It may happen off-screen, but its ramifications stick like glue. She’s reluctant to talk about it when they get home, knowing it will start an argument but, in the early hours of the morning, they end up examining their relationship, their past together, their respective weaknesses. Yet time after time, they come back to the same issue. He didn’t say thank you in his speech.

He’s not the only one to have such a public case of amnesia – it happens at any level of the career tree – but, for Marie, such a simple, small phrase is laden with significance and meaning. Its absence plays on all her insecurities, her lack of confidence and the constantly gnawing feeling that the man she loves takes her for granted, leaving her stranded at the bottom of his list of priorities. Worse still, she’s convinced her own personal story has been exploited for the sake of his career. It’s a cold and lonely place to be. Not that it’s a one way argument, with Malcolm reminding her that he showed her love and loyalty throughout her drug rehab and helped her turn her life around. But such is the rhythm of the piece that it always comes back to those two little words, ones that take a second to say but last a lifetime.

Filmed during the pandemic, it never lets go or lets up emotionally or verbally. An examination of the couple’s relationship, boasting extraordinary performances from Zendaya and Washington, it also never gets away from its cinematic history. Nor does it want to, be it dissecting the co-dependence between the industry and movie critics or looking fondly over its shoulder to the films of the 40s and the romantic partnerships of the era. But while the grainy monochrome and the doorway framed shots hark back to the golden age of tinsel town, it’s also the starting point for looking forward to the continued role of cinema in our lives – its ability to portray emotion and life in general on the big screen, to examine issues and generally lift our spirits. And, as the industry faces what could be a long walk into the unknown, its release couldn’t be better timed.

What could have been an unrelenting shout-a-thon is much, much more. The scintillating script, the rapid-fire dialogue and rhythm of the piece all prevent it from getting anywhere near the bear traps. We never know where it’s taking us next, but, while there are times when it feels like we’re intruding uncomfortably on private matters, we simply cannot wait to find out. And the last thing we want to do is leave.