“Malcolm & Marie”
A glimpse into what, exactly?
By Carter Starkey
In September, when I first caught wind of a feature-length film with Zendaya and John David Washington, shot during quarantine with a bare-bones crew and only two characters, my intrigue was off the charts. “Malcolm & Marie” tells the story of two lovers: one, a film director on the brink of fame, and the other, his muse, a creative in her own right. Over the course of the movie, we see their relationship implode, screaming match after screaming match, one upbeat jazz song after another. Being a huge fan of “Euphoria,” I was excited to see what director Sam Levinson would do with a Netflix budget and a relatively thin field of competition. Those lofty expectations were never met. In fact, not a lot happens in the movie. Malcolm and Marie start as two broken people overflowing with resentment, and they largely end that way. This is yet another movie about a toxic relationship, and that may be at the heart of its problems.
To start off, I want to clarify that there are things in this movie that I really enjoyed. By and large, the acting was terrific. Both leads carried tension and energy wonderfully. The film was shot in black and white, making the cinematography from Marcell Rév all the more impressive, and that was what kept me interested in the film. Unfortunately, the bad far outweighed the good. The story was stagnant, dwelling on little things for far too long. It often feels preachy, and in its worst moments, it reminded me of something a drunk Hollywood producer would spew moments before passing out. What’s worse is that these shortcomings appear to fall on one man’s shoulders: Sam Levinson.
In addition to directing the movie, he wrote the screenplay and was part of the production team. Parts of the story loosely follow events in his life—namely, a scene where Malcolm picks apart a hasty, yet positive, review of his film from “the white lady from the ‘LA Times.’” He criticizes the review for centering the drama of his film around race, which was not his directorial intention. The scene is a subtle dig at a real life review that Levinson received from the same publication.
All of this puts a sour taste in my mouth. I worry that the mistakes in this movie cover up what could’ve been treasured performances from its stars. What’s more, I fear that “Malcolm & Marie” is glorifying the toxic relationship that is central to its story. The protagonists of the film play what is essentially a highlight reel of emotional abuse. The movie paints a picture of two people who, deep down, hold real hatred for themselves and each other. This is scarily realistic for anyone who has known the depths of the human experience that these sorts of relationships produce. The only difference between real life and Netflix is that when the cameras cut and the crew goes home, that experience goes away.
As actors, Zendaya and John David Washington have spent years practicing how to release their characters when not playing them—how to detach from the personas that come alive on screen. The people who have lives similar to the characters in the film don’t have that luxury. “Malcolm & Marie” doesn’t serve as a cautionary tale, either. At no point in this film does it seem like either character learns a lesson, changes, or grows from the things they say. Anyone who acts like the characters, demeaning a loved one by describing how little they need them or belittling their successes out of spite, likely won’t fall asleep next to that person anytime soon. Yet Malcolm falls asleep next to Marie.
This highlights a key problem with depicting any toxic relationship: to explore the experience through acting is to exploit the fears of your audience. Due in part to the circumstances behind it, this movie draws its drama not from its writing, but from the audience’s instinct not to look away. For those on the outside, it’s like looking at a car wreck—it’s horrible, destructive, and you can’t take your eyes off of it. Using these prolonged arguments as story beats creates an environment of car wreck after car wreck and substitutes attention for value.
In reality, “Malcolm & Marie” tells the story of two toxic relationships, one between its titular characters and one between the man who made it and the industry in which he works.