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Married Life

My husband and I have different approaches to Oscar season.


I cannot bring myself to watch "The Brutalist." I believe deeply in the power of titles, and "The Brutalist" is among the least appealing titles I can imagine. The title seems to say: "The experience of watching--or sleeping through--this film will be brutal." It's not a title that draws me in.

Marc is more wide-eyed; he believes that Hollywood awards culture is a meritocracy; in his most innocent moments, he seems to think that the characters he observes are real people. Watching "Babygirl," he makes comments to suggest that it is Nicole Kidman--not "Romy"--who is living through a midlife crisis. Also, he expects that Romy/Nicole might look directly at the camera at any moment; Romy/Nicole might instruct us in an earnest way. "We come to this place for magic....that indescribable feeling....when the lights begin to dim...."

It's said that novelists sometimes regret their career choice, because the work changes a person's approach to reading. Richard Russo has observed, "I can't really get lost in a story anymore. I'm always noting how the artist moves around her items of furniture -- how she handles the tasks of stage management. I see the gears turning."

In that same way, I think Marc gets impatient when watching "SVU" with me. "That's Amy Landecker," I'll say. "She wouldn't agree to an SVU contract in 2025 unless this is a major role. You can expect a huge, heroic speech from her in Act Three...."

My spouse and I do have an impact on each other. Without Marc, I might not have found myself at a screening of "I'm Still Here." (Again, a title I'd revise. The title seems like a warning. You're going to sit in your chair for more than two hours--but wait. Look up at the screen. I'm STILL here.) Without me, Marc likely would not see "Flow," about a plucky capybara on a raft in the apocalypse. Both halves of this marriage are better off.

Can't wait for Oscar night.
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