The Wife directed by Bjorn Runge is a whole lot of hand wringing. Do we fault his Danish maudlin ways? Or should we go after Jane Anderson who wrote the screenplay based on Meg Wollitzer’s novel? I say Jane.
The dialogue was a bit like a high school chorus practice, at times the singing’s revelatory, at others, as if half of them are experiencing nails on a chalkboard adolescent hormone induced voice changing.
But enough whining, let’s talk about the positives, of which there are many. As I said, at times, this film soars: Close is fantastic, even if I kept waiting for her to pull out an ice pick or boil a rabbit. Equally great was Elizabeth McGovern, stealing a scene that resonates far beyond its short duration. The plot does indeed thicken on a slow burn and was suspenseful and unpredictable.
And the movie was realistic in showing the stickiness of co-dependent relationships. I spent 6 years of my life in one and sometimes wonder what the hell I was doing. Yet my time was chump change compared to the long duration of this marriage.
Not to end a negative, but Jonathan Pryce is a bit precious at times and Jeremy Irons’ son, if you can believe it, shows LESS emotion than his steely dad (hey how’s that for a pun: iron, steely)….ok, go easy on me.
Go see it, especially if you think your partner might be cheating on you. If he or she sweats profusely, you might want to retain an attorney:)
