darnell-2 Reviews

Heartburn (1986)

Uneven, but less manufactured than Ephron's subsequent films

[12 November 1998]

Although somewhat artificial, the humor and "heartburn" of this Nora Ephron film seem more affecting and less manufactured than those in her more slick subsequent films, When Harry Met Sally... and Sleepless in Seattle. Perhaps the autobiographical slant helped.

Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson play a couple based on Ephron and Carl Bernstein. They meet, marry, settle in Washington, and have children. Streep's wedding-day jitters, it turns out, were amply justified; she discovers an affair between her husband and a social-climbing hostess.

Streep is so luminous and so natural that one may not realize until the end of the film how completely insipid and devoid of any distinguishing qualities her character is. "Rachel" changes from a wan, nervous divorcee (before meeting Nicholson's character) to an obsessively devoted wife and mother who keeps babbling about how happy she is.

Nicholson is well-cast as the rakish but (initially) endearing husband. The supporting cast reflects the expert hand of Juliet Taylor, Woody Allen's longtime casting director, who peppered it with many familiar faces, including Allen favorites Joanna Gleason, Caroline Aaron, and Karen Akers. Maureen Stapleton is particularly droll as Streep's shrink. Nineties audiences will enjoy seeing Kevin Spacey as a neurasthenic mugger.

The comedy in the film is somewhat uneven, but often extremely engaging, as in a running parody of "Masterpiece Theatre." And compare the spontaneous bravado of Nicholson's lopsided rendition of "Soliloquy" from Carousel (the comic highlight) to the forced quirkiness of Meg Ryan's tone-deaf "Surrey with the Fringe on Top" in When Harry Met Sally...

Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970)

Glimpse of a New York of not so long ago that now exists only in memory

[5 November 1998]

This highly entertaining and memorable film provides a glimpse into a New York of not so long ago that now exists only in memory. But Diary of a Mad Housewife ultimately succeeds on the strength of its actors, particularly Snodgress, who plays a Smith graduate-turned prisoner of a Central Park West apartment inhabited by her overbearing, pitifully ambitious husband and spoiled daughters. Her performance is somehow flat and anemic but compelling at the same time--a combination that seems to have been consciously emulated by Chloe Sevigny in The Last Days of Disco.

Bejamin is perfectly cast as the insufferable husband, adenoidally petulant and demanding. When Snodgress's patience is finally exhausted, she takes up with Langella, a glowering animal presence as a bad-boy writer whose selfishness, it turns out, rivals and even exceeds Benjamin's.

The husband and wife represent two people whose lack of use for their education has led them astray: Snodgress finds herself in a state of frustration with the humiliations of her housewifely duties, and Benjamin, unappreciated in his office, comes up with ill-fated schemes for self-expression and social advancement.

All in all, the film brings The Feminine Mystique to life in unexpectedly original and diverting ways.