Directed by: Sam Levinson Written by Sam Levinson

Relationships are tricky. Being a functioning human alone is a challenging enough task if your guardians haven’t done unintentional (hopefully) and potentially irreparable damage to your psyche. Throwing another person's wants and needs into the maelstrom of emotional instability that's lurking behind even the kindest smile is a gamble with reality-shifting ramifications. Forget rationale, forget logic, love is the fire in your gut. It can fuel you or turn you to ash, no matter how big or small. This film is about that fire threatening to burn these two passionate lovers alive and leave nothing behind.

Malcolm and Marie are about the happiest night of Malcolm’s (John David Washington’s) life. His film has just premiered and apparently done well but his girlfriend Marie (Zendaya) is not sharing his elation. The following hour and forty-six minutes is a chamber play that reveals the lovers' true feelings to one another, granting them much-needed perspective on their past, present, and future.

Malcolm and Marie are a couple that, in my estimation, probably need to separate. Malcolm is a narcissistic, manipulative, verbally abusive, blustering asshole and Marie plays ball with his mind games using passive aggression to instigate him. They have a connection that’s supported by their individual inability to look beyond their egos. At the heart of each of them is a stubborn, hurt, frightened person, clinging to who they believe to be, the only other human that understands them based on their shared history. If you’ve been lucky enough not to experience a relationship like this, either personally or by extension, congratulations. Trauma bonding is real. Acknowledging unhealthy tendencies is the first step towards growing beyond them and escaping cycles of abuse. It’s difficult and scary but it’s necessary to work and in this way, I love what this film is trying to do, just, not how it’s trying to do it.

Zendaya and John David Washington deliver incredible, layered performances that deserve to be acknowledged at every level possible. The monochrome, minimalist cinematography helps to focus the story and visually represent the psychology of the characters, attempting to marry the expression of the dialogue to the form of the film. Unfortunately and ironically, the tug of war that ensues does not reflect the “authenticity” of the experiences that likely inspired it.

While the delivery is impressive, the actual written word is contrived. In between the, admittedly entertaining fights, the characters espouse long unbroken speeches that detail their mentality regarding a subject. In this case, Levinson took aim at the pedantry and manipulation sometimes evident in modern criticism, which, I assume was supposed to be a meta nod to the potential reception of this film. Close but no cigar. Too much of it feels orchestrated to be a real, off-the-cuff fight and so much of the criticism on criticism feels thrown into the film to be organic to the story of these characters. The monologues on criticism from JDW are excessively long and bludgeoning, reaching for charming but landing on obnoxious. Zendaya, however, actually sticks the landing more often than not, serving up responses to his literal cries into the void with a nonchalance that deflates his giant head. It’s not without its charm, progression, or escalation but for the most part, the monologues lack the subtlety of intimacy -- the back and forth of knowing. They don’t pull punches but the artificiality of even the heaviest scenes is hard to overlook.

A film like this lives and dies by whether or not it can be felt in the heart of the viewer, whether one can empathize with both parties and believe what’s being portrayed. In this, the film is successful about half of the time. If this were the stage it would have likely been easier to suspend disbelief due to the inherent dialogue the theater space creates with the audience but onscreen, I could literally hear the clacking of Levinson’s keys. The insecurity that comes with being creative, the awareness of women’s stories being taken from them, the manipulation we normalize for “love,” and the weaponization of intimacy in relationships are all touching themes that do culminate in an affecting ending.

Malcolm and Marie is a good, harrowing, time that is carried almost entirely on the backs of its leads. Sam Levinson does a fine job directing each scene but gets in his own way, placing greater importance on the clarity, rather than the method of the film's expression from page to screen.

If you’re a fan of chamber drama, I would recommend Malcolm and Marie.

If you’re in a rough spot with your partner, I would still recommend Malcolm and Marie. Don’t run from your problems. Maybe this film will give you the nudge to have that talk.

If you don’t like movies that are literally all dialogue, then perhaps pass on this one.

I wish you luck.

Be kind to one another.

Enjoy.