Margot (Nicole Kidman) is a renowned writer who has been delighting audiences for years through her short stories and books. What her readers don’t know is that her work is not purely fictional, which a great deal of it being derived from her own personal life, and the lives of her family, who slowly realize that Margot is using their personal issues as a way of making money. This has most impacted her sister, Pauline (Jennifer Jason Leigh), a rambunctious teacher who is set to marry Malcolm (Jack Black), an unemployed musician who thinks that writing letters to magazines is a worthwhile career. This wedding is the reason for Margot visiting their Long Island home, as they are set to get married the following day. However, there are ulterior motives for her visit – she is trying to escape her manipulative husband (John Turturro), bringing their youngest son, Claude (Zane Pais) with her so that he can be away from his father, who Margot desperately wants to get away from. She’s also set to be interviewed that weekend by her lover (Ciarán Hinds), a famous writer with whom she has been having a passionate affair for years. Tensions arise, especially as each secret is unveiled, with revelations being made that could potentially shatter the family and continue to force them to drift apart – yet, in the midst of all this angst, Margot is still sure that there is some chance of repairing a fragmented family, that still love each other, despite the vitriol that tends to consume them and turn them against each other.

Noah Baumbach is a director whose work often reflects his own personal interest in the human condition – his films usually take the form of straightforward social comedies that are notably straightforward, defying every temptation to be elaborate or excessive. This has means Baumbach’s films are normally paced, intelligent affairs that deal with the smaller minutiae of existence, which is mostly true of his earlier work, where he was one of the pioneers of the mumblecore subgenre. Everyone may have different opinions on Baumbach, and which of his many films could be considered his best – some are partial to his beautifully affecting tales of marital strife in The Squid and the Whale and Marriage Story, or his exploration of individuality in films like Frances Ha and Greenberg. However, the area in which the director frequently succeeds the most is when he approaches the intimidating concept of family, a recurring theme, and one most prominent in works such as The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) and the subject of this review, Margot at the Wedding. This is one of his most challenging films, for reasons we’ll outline later on, and one that is difficult to embrace, mainly because it deals with subjects far too uncomfortable for mainstream cinema, executing them in such a sardonic way, watching this film can sometimes be far from a pleasant experience, which isn’t necessarily a flaw, but rather a quality that sets the tone of the film.

Margot at the Wedding is a film that came a bit later in his career, but still bears the qualities of his earlier films – an almost nihilistic sense of acidic humour, a story that is less driven by plot and a group of eccentric characters that all function as almost parodic versions of real individuals, being the director’s attempt at demonstrating the absurdity of real life. It’s a film that is quite intrepid in how it approaches the subject matter – this is not the warm, genial family-focused comedy that it would appear to be on the surface. There’s not a lot of warmth or comfort to be found anywhere in this film, with Margot at the Wedding seeming to bear qualities of some of Ingmar Bergman’s most stark social dramas, as well as the bleak kitchen sink realism made by the likes of Mike Leigh earlier in his career. It’s very simple filmmaking, but it should be stated how this is not a film that everyone will necessarily enjoy, especially those looking for the same genial enthusiasm Baumbach would peddle later on in his career. However, what it does do extremely well, and aspect for which this film should receive resounding praise, is how it feels so authentic – the director doesn’t sacrifice his spirit of cinematic independence in the making of this film. Grounded so heavily within reality, and executed with a cutting precision that removes the boundaries between the film and the audience in a way that bears stark resemblance to the most moving pieces of cinematic realism, such as those made by John Cassavetes and Rainer Werner Fassbinder (while it’s not always good to assert artistic influences on someone, the key to understanding and appreciating Baumbach’s craft is in looking at the various inspirations that lead to his wonderful works), where the focus is solely on the machinations of the human spirit, rather than the broader social implications, which makes Margot at the Wedding both an uncomfortable, but endearingly beautiful, work of modern cinematic verisimilitude.

Moreover, as has become a tendency for the director, Margot at the Wedding sees the assembling of an impressive cast, gathered to interpret Baumbach’s incredibly complex family drama. The ensemble is led by Nicole Kidman, who has always been a great collaborator for independent filmmakers, lending her talents to many smaller films, and in return receiving the chance to give some of her strongest performances. Margot at the Wedding occurs at the peak of her career, where she wasn’t just a major film star, but also someone who had the qualities of a great character actress. She is exceptional in the titular role, playing on the natural flaws of the main character without making her too despicable – its important that Margot is played in such a way that she’s unlikeable but still relatable – and Kidman never resorts to any quirks that would point towards some form of mental imbalance (even if there’s an implication by other characters that she has borderline personality disorder). It’s certainly not a performance that gives the gifted Kidman the chance to do everything she can, but its nonetheless solid work from a truly dedicated actress. The same can be said for Jennifer Jason Leigh, an equally brilliant performer who has received much less of the recognition as some of her contemporaries. Margot at the Wedding is a perfect example of why she’s such an incredible screen presence – she’s got a certain authenticity to her acting which allows for her to play any character, whether it be a hardened cynic or a vulnerable optimist. This film sees her adopt qualities of both, and she quietly steals the film from Kidman, playing the role of Pauline with such sincerity and empathetic elegance, we can’t help but be truly captivated by what she does here. Finally, Jack Black gives some of his first truly dramatic work here, abandoning his more outrageous personality for a more subdued portrayal of a middle-aged man hoping to find some meaning, in spite of his own self-realized mediocrity. The cast of Margot at the Wedding is very strong, even in smaller performances by the likes of John Turturro and Ciarán Hinds, who have minor but pivotal roles in the film and contribute massively to a wonderful ensemble of actors.

Margot at the Wedding is an arid, disconcerting film about horrible people acting in terrible ways – and when it comes to telling stories about despicable individuals, it takes a lot to succeed. The reason why this film does well and isn’t an unbearable experience despite not necessarily ever doing anything to soften the blow of these atrocious characters, is because Baumbach removes the distance between the audience and the film – he’s operating at a level here where there’s no space for us to assert judgement or feel morally superior to these characters in any way. He executes the film to create the sensation that we are not merely peering at the lurid private life of this dysfunctional family, but rather actively there with them, and thus are complicit in the many unfortunate moral quarrels they undergo. This, as alluded to before, creates the sensation of extreme discomfort, which is an intentional choice on the part of Baumbach, who manages to use it to comment on the implications underlying this film. Margot at the Wedding is a challenging film, but its also a very intelligent one, proving to be an extremely original glance at a dysfunctional family, where the problems are not condensed into adorable chunks of mischief, but rather the result of years of resentment and grief, most of which we don’t actually ever come to interact with, as the film guards the root of the animosity between these characters, only giving the audience brief glimpses into the life of the family before the events depicted here. It’s effective in how frustrating it is because our natural tendency is to want to have access to context, especially when it’s as pivotal to the tension underlying the tension as it is here. The film raises more questions than it does answers, which is all part of the unconventional charm because the moment we surrender ourselves to the fact that Baumbach is not making a traditional film, the sooner we can appreciate his daring portrayal of a modern family, one which still loves each other in spite of their faults.

It may not be the most exciting film based on the premise, Margot at the Wedding is still an incredibly complex character-driven drama, constructed by one of independent cinema’s most fascinating voices, who takes an intense look at the inner workings of an ordinary family, in which the secrets they each harbour become increasingly important to their relationship. It’s certainly a challenging film and requires the viewer to suspend their hope of joy being found anywhere in this film, mainly because everything this film does is based around a certain profound complexity that is more difficult to deliver in an endearing way, and is much more effective as a darkly comical family saga that is filled with tension and suspense, which is very different from the expectations one may have with this film. Ultimately, the film boasts incredible performances from Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh, who are captivating and help the film rise above its dire approach to the subject matter, and a general sense of intricate brilliance infused into the screenplay that makes the film so extraordinary. Margot at the Wedding sees Baumbach at his most caustic, caught somewhere between dark comedy and heartwrenching drama, and while he has yet to return to the same kind of desolate storytelling, it represented one of his first formative moments as a filmmaker who is willing to take on some uncomfortable topics for the sake of conveying a certain message. The film doesn’t always work as well as it should, and its heavy-handed tone can sometimes become distracting. However, it is an ultimately rewarding experience worth the time and the effort to watch, mainly because it presents us with a stark story of a fragmented family working to achieve some sense of cohesion in a troubling world – it set the standard for so many films that would touch on familiar thematic territory, and confirmed Baumbach as a director whose work makes an indelible impression, even when it is at its most bleak.