AFTER THE WEDDING: Maudlin Remake Doesn’t Commit To Sincerity

After the Wedding is a narratively packed film hingeing on life-altering twists. Initially, After the Wedding is a gender-flipped remake of the Oscar-nominated Danish film by Susanne Bier, adapted and directed by Bart Freundlich (The Myth of Fingerprints). This isn’t the first time a foreign picture is remade, and it isn’t the first time the genders were reversed. Earlier this year, Hans Petter Moland remade his own dark comedy In Order of Disappearance, renaming it Cold Pursuit and cheaply tailoring a stiff and implacable Liam Neeson in a role he’s done numerous times already in his acting career. 2019’s The Hustle tried to invoke a fresh spin on 1988’s Dirty Rotten Scoundrels by switching the genders, but what a con that turned out to be. 

Even critically-acclaimed director Sebastián Lelio remade his own Chilean-Spanish drama Gloria, renaming it Gloria Bell and spotlighting a modern, middle-aged American woman played by Julianne Moore. But instead of being a trainwreck, Lelio’s self-made English language remake prospered on its trendy direction and restored energy. It’s possible for a remake to kindle new life, a new perspective that can obviate the media’s criticism of unoriginality. Regrettably, 2019’s After the Wedding doesn’t ignite the theatrical spark necessary to vitalize the twists and turns.

For 110 minutes, After the Wedding is melodrama at its thinnest layer, anchored by minted characters living in high-toned country estates, and working in glass-and-steel office buildings that look down on everybody else, including Isabel (Michelle Williams), a caring American woman who runs an orphanage in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta), India. Isabel has devoted her life to working with destitute children, even becoming a mother figure to a little boy named Jai (Vir Pachisia). An orphanage keeps parentless children fed and protected, but when it comes to stability, it all comes down to money. Thankfully, the orphanage is promised a small fortune from Theresa (Julianne Moore), a multimillionaire head of a media company located in New York. But it isn’t an effortless transaction. 

Theresa summons Isabel to New York to discuss the deal face-to-face. Promising to be the orphanage’s largest benefactor, Isabel has no choice but to give in to Theresa’s wishes. Isabel meets with Theresa, and although optimistic, it’ll take a little bit longer for Theresa to glance over the agreement before finalizing it. To make up for this infuriating inconvenience, Theresa sends Isabel to an upscale Manhattan hotel, setting her up with a penthouse suite while waiting for the deal to be finalized.

Through casual conversation, Theresa mentions her daughter Grace (Abby Quinn) is getting married in a few days, and Theresa strangely invites Isabel to the wedding. Feeling obligated to come, Isabel rushes to Theresa’s daughter’s wedding, meeting Grace, who couldn’t be sweeter, and Oscar (Billy Crudup), a sculptor from her past. Seeing Oscar again prompts Isabel to question Theresa’s motives, and when one secret is divulged, another one is already on deck. After the Wedding is a tangled portrait of secrets, but a self-satisfied one that oversells its emotive value.

A Tasteless Dish Of Emotion

After the Wedding begins by glimpsing at the soiled, decaying but historically beautiful place that is Kolkata, India, a metropolis located on India’s Eastern Coast and the capital of West Bengal state. But the perspective is seen through Isabel, a do-gooder trying to juggle the financial stability of an orphanage, all the while becoming a mother figure to a young boy at the orphanage. Michelle Williams immediately gives you somebody to laud, and Billy Crudup immediately gives you somebody to suspect, and like anybody, they have a past, which comes back to haunt them both.

Julianne Moore arrives on-screen as Theresa, and her prosperous lifestyle instantly overpowers Isabel’s grounded perspective. Grace Yun’s production design arranges a majestic country estate, a dusty guest house where the haughty artist harnesses his craft, and an imposing office building. The wealth is utilized as glamorous bait designed specifically to entice Isabel — but it only ends up irritating her. Theresa’s glitzy opulence is publicly delineated, but all this glitter is clearly concealing secrets.

Despite what you may think, these secrets in no way end up in blood splatter, but familial disarray (shamelessly wearing the mien of a soap opera). When all other efforts to wrap up the agreement across seas end up fruitless, Isabel finds herself in New York, situated in a palatial penthouse suite and impelled to go to Theresa’s daughter’s wedding. From there, a fluffy seed of intrigue is planted, gradually nurtured until it erupts into something messy.

Freundlich sets up the pieces immaculately: Theresa overwhelms Isabel with grandeur; Theresa, for whatever reason, invites Isabel to her daughter’s wedding, and of course, Isabel, for whatever reason, barely makes it in time for the wedding ceremony. Freundlich toys with the viewer’s anticipation of how all of this fits into one coherent whole.

The correlation between Isabel and Oscar is eventually made lucid, but it briskly triggers more divulgences. Before exhuming the contents of a story essentially configured by stagy twists, After the Wedding lacks subtlety and incautiously embraces the same bouts of drama, over and over again, with no lasting effect. The characters react outspokenly, never masking their feelings but never accomplishing persuasive sentimentality. It all starts with one reveal, and the schmaltzy drama continues to drizzle down like melting ice cream, losing a sense of taste because the more and more it melts, the less tempting it is. All that’s left is a dramatic mess to clean up (major spoilers going forward).

Not Worth The Commitment

During the first act, Freundlich employs two perspectives, a fleeting snapshot of two distinct women — who, although noticeably different, are empowered women taking control of the situation. Isabel is commendably altruistic and dedicated to keeping the orphanage’s doors open. While Theresa created one of the most lucrative media companies in the world. Isabel’s life and Theresa’s life is briefly explored, and from what’s seen of their lives, they’re incompatible; yet, they cross paths to negotiate a donation, and Isabel gets more than she bargained for: a daughter. 

That’s right, Grace is Isabel’s daughter, and Oscar was once Isabel’s foolish boyfriend. Originally, Isabel and Oscar both agreed to give Grace up for adoption, but when Isabel fled to India, Oscar grew attached and kept Grace. Nobody’s in the right here; both were young, reckless and confounded. Isabel left Oscar to carry all of the emotional weight, while Oscar didn’t truly bother to contact Isabel (he said he tried to get a hold of her, but he obviously didn’t try hard enough). Instead, Oscar found Theresa, who became a mother to Grace and had two more children with Oscar.

When Grace discovers the truth, the discourse of parents and children (and the polarities of nature and nurture) are weakly debated. There are heedfully planned out scenes in which Isabel and Grace awkwardly confide in one another, only to realize they do share things, and Grace’s biological connection to Isabel is decidedly precious. Unfortunately, there are not enough delicately structured conversations between Isabel and Grace, or Isabel and Theresa, to leave an impression.

The casting, in particular, is outstanding. Williams brings a composed presence as Isabel, wrestling with her past through moments of solitude and reflection. She’s not the one to confront angrily, but she does wield a self-contained fury vividly displayed through facial expressions. Moore plays a wealthy and self-assured businesswoman, too confident and controlling for her own good. Despite being well-intentioned, Moore’s Theresa is a prime example of a rich person throwing money at a problem. Billy Crudup is surprisingly gentle as Oscar, who acknowledges that he’s done wrong. Primarily, this dysfunctional trio is ridden with self-created faults. Usually, that would amplify the soapy, syrupy layout of the film, but the drama is never fully formed or nuanced (therefore most close-up shots aren’t impactful and the teardrops aren’t earned). 

With a picture so set on probing the fractured family dynamics of this unorthodox clan, it ends up being ironic. Isabel escaped to India because she didn’t think she could be a good mother, but as it turns out, she’s basically a mother to a bunch of orphans. It’s a strange outcome, but one that was most likely cultivated by the expectations of women: the idea that becoming a mother will suck the life out of your coexisting dreams or desires (although untrue, or at very least faulty, it can get to you). Then again, Freundlich’s script doesn’t fully commit to any of its thematic depth.

After the Wedding Leaves You Cold

Switching the genders and resting on the shoulders of its first-rate cast, the script doesn’t provide anything new, original or sincere. The overripe histrionics at play here alludes to a better movie that’ll make use of its portrayal of broken families, maternal instincts, redemption and reconciliation. 2019’s After the Wedding wants nothing more than to be a tearjerker, but the emotions run cold and the twists are all for show, with little substance. It’s best to send your regrets.

Did you see the original film? What are your thoughts on remakes? Let us know in the comments!

After the Wedding premiered at the Sundance Film Festival on January 24, 2019. It was released in the U.S. on August 9, 2019. It’s released in most countries on October 11, 2019, and is set to get a U.K. release on November 1, 2019.