In a pivotal scene approximately ten minutes into Malcolm & Marie, John David Washington‘s Malcolm angrily tells Zendaya‘s Marie “You’re psychotic”, to which she retorts, “You’re hyperbolic”. It’s tremendously rare that a film comes along that can be encapsulated in such a simple exchange of dialogue from its script, but in the case of Sam Levinson‘s latest outing, the feat comes almost too easy. Shot over a period of weeks during the COVID-19 pandemic under strict safety protocols, Levinson‘s emotionally eruptive third feature is an irrefutably ambitious project, but one that crumbles under the mass of those ambitions. Much like its two leads, Malcolm & Marie exudes a ferocious fragility that permeates the film’s interiority. It carries a similar weight to his HBO series Euphoria (also starring Zendaya), a show that oozes style in every frame yet revels in the insecurities that pervade the air the characters breathe.
Much like Euphoria, Malcolm & Marie is a beauty on the surface. Each scene is injected with a hyper-keen sense of singularity in its presentation, particularly thanks to Marcell Rév‘s stunningly gorgeous cinematography and Levinson‘s articulate hold on these characters. And yet, there are a plethora of necessary elements missing from this exasperatingly confident yet staggeringly hollow look into the creative process and the means upon which relationships are tested (as well as their potential irreparability). More often than not, the film is competent enough to stand as an intriguing look into these themes, but not nearly as coherent in its execution as it needs to be to deliver upon them.
There’s a fixed boldness needed for a film like Malcolm & Marie to function. More specifically, a delicate balance. Levinson‘s visual tendencies are eloquent enough to allow the film a more sturdy ground for it to tread, but it doesn’t take long for the dirt to slip away and, subsequently, the film to fall headfirst into the chasm. Despite how alluring it is, there’s a certain disconnect between the striking imagery and the stagnant narrative (a problem Levinson seems to face with his projects), and as a result of this clear-cut inconsistency, Malcolm & Marie often feels deeply troubled in nearly every respect.
Electric Performances
For as much as its technicalities are wholeheartedly a mess, Malcolm & Marie does have a solid multitude of things that keep it afloat even in its most disillusioned fragments. This includes, of course, Zendaya and John David Washington‘s terrific and utterly captivating lead performances as the enthralling titular couple. Both enter the scene with an unsurprisingly capable level of grace and self-assurance, bringing individualities to their roles that distinguish them from each other yet allow for a more realistic clash between their personalities as the runtime progresses.
Perhaps that’s why it’s so disappointing that their undeniable chemistry isn’t fully capitalized upon due to Levinson‘s seeming insistence on biting off more than he can chew. Throughout Malcolm & Marie‘s 100-minute duration, there’s a shocking imbalance to it all. The promise this story begins with is suppressed by the weight of numerous factors that halt its potential right in its tracks. Levinson‘s script is an egregiously ostentatious display of provocation without boundaries. It never verges so far that the viewer feels crippled by the film’s pressure, but it’s enormously overwhelming at points.
Coupled with this is a fairly reprehensible attempt at formality that simply doesn’t materialize. Levinson‘s structure here might work better if his characters were provided with any semblance of intricacy or intimacy, but Malcolm and Marie’s relationship never feels tangible. It functions as a viable construct and nothing more but stands rooted in a painful push-and-pull friction that constantly feels like it’s yanking a rug out from under the viewer when they didn’t even realize they were standing on one. Therein lies Malcolm & Marie‘s most palpable flaw: an inability to remain consistent to its own purpose and a faltered delivery as a result.
Sweeping Style
Adding onto the two magnificent lead performances is a gorgeous outer shell that was easily foreseeable but remains a pleasant coating to the narrative’s varying degrees of unpredictability nevertheless. Marcell Rév‘s black-and-white 35mm cinematography is an exceptional excursion and works wonders to even out a disjointed script with a visual flair that captivates as much as it contributes to the flamboyant (yet never overly flashy) atmosphere.
Levinson’s frequent collaborator Labrinth (who recently won an Emmy for Euphoria’s score) returned to compose the score for Malcolm & Marie and while it may not be as distinct as his Euphoria score was, it certainly carries a similar level of passion for the story and the way the accompaniments fit in. His score isn’t as frequently visible in the film as one might expect, but the rest of the soundtrack is thankfully robust enough to save a handful of the more tedious moments scattered throughout.
Yet sadly, even the most seductive stylistic techniques Levinson and co. employ can’t rescue this mess from itself. Over the course of 100 minutes, Malcolm & Marie takes the viewer through an abundance of arguments between the titular pair, but very few of them hold any real weight because of Levinson‘s inability to tackle any of the things he attempts to analyze without persistently navel-gazing.
Thematically Vapid
Throughout the duration of Malcolm & Marie, it’s painfully clear that Levinson is attempting to climb out of a hole he dug himself too far into. The whole film feels fractured, continuously throwing the viewer into Malcolm and Marie’s arguments from their inception but without any tactile ground upon which to tread. Levinson wants the viewer to feel invested, but at the expense of his film’s thematic linearity.
The entire movie drowns in argument after argument with each actor trying their hardest to propel it to soar the heights it so desperately wants to (and could, with a better script), but in the end, it feels like an extended version of the argument scene in Eyes Wide Shut. One of Kubrick‘s themes from that scene is even retooled by Levinson and placed within the confines of this film when Marie asks Malcolm why he isn’t jealous of her, as she goes on to state that she could be hanging on the arm of another man and he wouldn’t think twice about it.
There’s so much that Malcolm & Marie wants to be, but it never focuses enough on any of those things long enough to weave a coherent narrative out of them. It’s a shame, really, because there’s so much potential just waiting to be lived up to with a story like this. The charisma of Malcolm & Marie‘s leads simply can’t save its disjointed nature. Levinson wants to have his cake and eat it too, and the inherent shallowness of his execution makes this film feel like three hours when it doesn’t even crack two.
Conclusion
Malcolm & Marie isn’t a terrible film by any means, but it’s undoubtedly a bewildering mess that collapses under its own weight due to astounding impotence for itself and the audience. The film often seems like it’s hopelessly trying to emulate Cassavetes without the spontaneous coarseness of what made his films work, and apes Kar-Wai at the end without the right kind of emotional ambiguity. Zendaya is absolutely marvelous in this role (and Washington is solid too, though his partner outacts him by a wide margin), but the attempt this film makes to delve into the intricacies of their characters’ relationship ultimately falls flat.
Levinson‘s script is a constant barrage of shifting pushes and pulls without any semblance of structure, frequently jerking the rug out from under the viewer with zero buildup. Stylistically, it’s an elegant affair, but the exquisite aesthetic isn’t enough to capture the soul behind Malcolm or Marie. The film drones off into expletive-laden monologues more often than it actually delves into the psychology of its subjects. There’s a good film in here somewhere, but this isn’t it.
Will you be seeing Malcolm & Marie? Let us know in the comments below.
Malcolm & Marie releases on February 5, 2021, on Netflix.
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