At the beginning of Private Life, the new film from Tamara Jenkins, we are introduced to Rachel (Kathryn Hahn) and Richard (Paul Giamatti), who are the quintessential artistic couple – he is a theatrical genius known for avant-garde productions, and she is a highly-acclaimed writer whose first book is about to be published after years of being well-regarded, but somewhat obscure. However, the public perception of the couple masks the private life of their marriage, which is occupied with attempts to have a child, but a number of complications prevent them from realizing their ambitions of getting pregnant. When the adoption process proves to be too laborious, and IVF treatments are rendered redundant, they are left with the final resort: find an egg donor to give them an oocyte, which can be implanted in Rachel, fertilized with Richard’s genetic “contribution”, thus bringing them the child they so badly want: however, when their donor comes in the form of Richard’s niece (Kayli Carter), there are a series of further complications, this time more social rather than medical, and the trio have to make some very difficult decisions along the way.

There are two ways to describe Private Life – bitterly funny and tremendously sad. Tamara Jenkins has been a filmmaker who has been able to represent the painfully profound side of ordinary life, and in her first directorial outing since 2007’s excellent The Savages, Jenkins has once again made a masterwork of social commentary, a deeply moving and soaringly emotional drama about individuals overcoming various challenges in their endeavours to achieve something taken for granted by so many people. Private Life, in essence, may be somewhat predictable and perhaps not entirely innovative, but it is a wholeheartedly warm film, a story that looks at something that is not often shown in films, never flinching away from the truth, nor exploiting its subject matter for the purposes of comedic quirk or cheap societal critique. Private Life is a wonderful little film, an intimate character-driven drama that seems unassuming, almost conventional, on the surface, but one that instantly captivates our attention and takes us through the life of a set of ordinary characters who would be almost inconsequential or insignificant if it was not for Jenkins’ generosity as a filmmaker, and the dedicated performances of the cast.

I’ve mentioned this a few times before, but perhaps what makes me so enamoured with independent cinema is not that these are films that are made by underdogs, people who make charming and intimate films that go against the mainstream, but rather the fact that in independent cinema, we are capable of seeing stories rarely told in more significant films. I love the fact that in many independent films, for only a brief period, the boundaries between reality and fiction are blurred, with the film often reflecting the trials and tribulations of society. They may not be particularly extraordinary, nor may they be entirely exciting or stimulating – but they are honest, and profoundly so. This is precisely where Private Life soars. It is an unabashed portrayal of social issues, but not on a grand scope, rather being a more familiar, personal depiction of life and its challenges, particularly when it comes to something as sensitive as life itself, or rather the attempt to create it, by any means necessary.

Private Life is essentially a film focused on a central trio. Paul Giamatti plays Richard, the artistic genius who has helped redefine independent theatre in his own way, however insignificant it is compared to the larger productions that occur just nearby. Giamatti is an actor who has found considerable success in the mainstream, despite his everyman persona, as well as building a career out of playing cynical, hyper-intelligent misanthropes, which are not normally considered leading man material. Therefore, despite being somewhat recognizable through his large body of supporting roles in bigger films, where Giamatti really strives is in independent cinema, which seems to be the only place the actor’s immense talents are fully-realized, with the exception of some terrific television work. Private Life is one of his better performances, and he comes across as his most likably ostentatious, once again being a bundle of neurotic quirks, but still being endearing. Contrasting him in Kayli Carter, who plays his niece, who looks up to her uncle and hopes to live a life as artistically-profound as him. Carter is a great young talent, and she shows herself to be capable of very simple but poignant emotion, and if Private Life is any indication, she’ll certainly go far in the industry.

However, the real heart of this film is Kathryn Hahn. It is clear that the world is starting to become aware of what a considerable talent Hahn is, an actress who can effortlessly oscillate between genres and formats to deliver performances that may be diverse, but all have one thing in common: Hahn’s endless dedication to her portrayals. Private Life is undeniably her finest work, and playing the fragile Rachel, she captures an entire generation of individuals who feel uncertain and empty, for a number of reasons. In the case of Rachel, it is two quandaries she faces on a daily basis: first is her position as a writer who has been unfortunately defined as being a woman before an artist, with her book, which isn’t intended for a specific group, being targeted at women by virtue of being written by a woman. The second is her unrelenting desire to be a mother. Hahn portrays the delicate but willful Rachel in a way that doesn’t reduce her to being a hysterical woman who just strives to be a mother because that’s what she is expected to be: she is an acclaimed writer, someone who has achieved so much, and her next ambition is to play the role of mother, while not abandoning everything else that made her such a complex individual. I cannot express the absolute brilliance that Hahn portrays here, and I can only hope that enough people see Private Life, even if it is only to be a platform for Hahn’s exceptional talents to be seen by as wide an audience as possible. She is astonishing, and despite being an admirer before this film, I came out of it with an intensified appreciation for this extraordinary performer, who astounds me at every turn.

Private Life is a very complex film, despite its relatively simple exterior. I have noticed that Jenkins, in her very sporadic directorial efforts, portrays a deeper nuance to even the most straightforward of situations, and there is not a single moment in her work that isn’t there for a reason – every choice and detail is absolutely necessary, and while it may not be abundantly clear at the outset, there is certainly a subversive message in her films, with Private Life having one that is not quite overt, but nonetheless significant. This is a film about a married couple who are both artists and extremely acclaimed ones at that. They have created, over the course of their careers, beautiful, poetic works in both their independent efforts and their collaborations, which have yielded in the recognition any artist desires. Yet, their most important collaboration – and most intimate – results in dismal failure and heartbreaking disappointment. There is a theme here of artists who are publically successful but privately unprosperous, and it is extremely effective, and the way Jenkins effortlessly blends the public and the private is masterful and positions her as an essential voice in modern filmmaking.

Independent cinema can deal with difficult themes, and Private Life is not any different, looking at a concept that is somewhat represented in cinema, albeit not nearly being the focus of the film, as it is here. Certainly, pregnancy is an extremely common theme in many works of art, and there are occasional forays into looking at unsuccessful pregnancies. However, this theme is often just relegated to the background, being relatively minor and existing for the sole purpose of showing how the main character can overcome such a heartbreaking situation through resilience and tenacity, and there is very little doubt there will be a happy resolution by the end. Private Life stays true to reality and shows that sometimes, things don’t work out – and that is perfectly alright. We are bound to fail, to experience heartbreak and disappointment, but carrying on is always the most important thing for us to do, even if carrying on entails abandoning one ambition and moving onto another. Private Life is a testament not only to the relentless pull of parenthood – it is an ode to the human spirit, to our undeniable nature to continue, even when the odds are against us. Private Life is not a particularly happy film, and despite some frequent moments of warmth and joy, it is a film that doesn’t intend to avoid the truth – it faces it directly, portraying ordinary struggles with poignant simplicity. When looking at something as delicate as the themes explored here, there is always a threat of being exploitative by making light of a serious issue, but as we have seen in other films that deal with complex concepts, with the right vision, these stories can be truly extraordinary, and Jenkins made something excellent here.

Private Life is an excellent film, and a welcome return back to the directorial chair for Tamara Jenkins, who is an extraordinary filmmaker. It is a wonderfully funny but also profoundly heartfelt drama that focuses on a sensitive theme with passion and tact, creating a warm but inescapably meaningful narrative that inspires just as much hope as it does heartwrenching sadness. By the conclusion of the film (which is appropriately left almost entirely unresolved), the audience has undergone quite an emotional journey, characterized by a passionate understanding of the human condition, captured by Jenkins’ tremendous story and the extraordinary performances by the cast. In no uncertain terms, Private Life is a masterful achievement of independent filmmaking, a powerful and moving film that may be intimate and modest, but more than compensates with soaring narrative beauty and thematic complexity which is rarely shown with such dignified warmth as it is here. One of the year’s most wonderful achievements, and certainly something that deserves to be seen and appreciated for the socially-resonant triumph that it is.