Written and directed by Tara Miele
Starring Sienna Miller, Diego Luna and Beth Grant
Running time: 1 hour and 37 minutes
MPAA rating: R for language and some sexual content/nudity

by Jaime Davis, The Fixer

The manner in which the pandemic has forced many, if not most, to sequester themselves indoors has done a number on couples. While it’s bonded some (see Emily and Shane on The Real Housewives of Orange County), for others, well, it’s not looking so good (see Braunwyn and Sean on The Real Housewives of Orange County). Last season, everyone was just s-u-r-e that Emily and Shane were headed for Divorce Court while Braunwyn and Sean seemed like a refreshingly modern, secure, open married couple despite having seven children (SEVEN!) Wellllllll, not so much now. This season of RHOC finds Emily and Shane gleefully communicating while divvying house chores as Braunwyn, working hard to stay sober during a quarantine, can’t help but pick fights with her husband on everything from what times during the day he’s allowed to access the kitchen (she’s tired of cleaning it) and how to do the laundry (she doesn’t know how to use the washing machine). While I know I’m making light of the situation (COVID-19 has increased the opportunities for intimate partner violence while decreasing possibilities to leave), watching the normally glam cast of Real Housewives’ franchises navigate a somewhat equalizing event like a global health crisis has reminded me how fascinated I am by romantic relationships. No matter what you see on the surface, whether that’s in person or on tv, you 100% have no idea what’s actually going on in that situation. You never really know a relationship unless you’re actually in it. 

That’s one of the reasons I love movies so much – we can get a fly-on-the-wall inside look at people all romanced and coupled up. What initially brought them to each other? What’s keeping them together? Or apart? What defines the bond between them? How does their love really make them feel – comforted? Alive? Depleted? Which is what originally interested me about Wander Darkly, a meditative look back on the love between two people who’ve recently suffered a major traumatic event. Sienna Miller stars as Adrienne, a boho Los Angeleno who’s recently had a child with her woodworker boyfriend, Matteo (Diego Luna). The two are quick to point out to others they’re not married, gripe at each other about suspected infidelities and force themselves on joyless date nights because they can’t afford therapy. In the first six minutes, Adrienne, exasperated, tells Matteo, “I don’t get the point of us,” to which I promptly yelled back, “I don’t either!” I was just waiting for them to throw up their hands, mutter “whatever,” and call it quits. But nah. In Wander Darkly, we follow Adrienne and Matteo as they solemnly navigate the remnants of their connection post-tragedy, by non-linearly reliving different moments in their relationship, both good and bad. We see some sweeter earlier moments, but much of the time between the two feels fraught and tense. Why stay together?

This wading through the past and present provides some lovely visuals, but at times seems overly complicated and confusing. Wander Darkly feels like a second cousin to A Ghost Story, but with a helluva lot more expository dialogue and not a ghostly Casey Affleck in sight. At one point near the end, Adrienne dreamily utters the following to her love: “You are my calm and my truth.” Huh? In scene after scene, Matteo is like literally neither of these things. Are we supposed to root for these two? And this is my confusion with the film – why look back at a relationship that appears to so completely and utterly suck? I hate that I just typed that sentence, but it’s how I feel. And we really should be more open and communicative with our feelings, just like Emily and Shane on Real Housewives of Orange County. 

There is also acting in this. Should I mention the acting? Diego Luna is an extremely gifted actor, but Matteo feels more like a sketch, with little for Luna to grasp at. Beth Grant, another amazing performer, is relegated to lines about how she’s a mother and all she knows how to do is cook and clean (seriously) – completely underutilized, in my opinion. I’m a little conflicted about Sienna Miller – she’s never particularly stood out to me except for that time she filmed Mysteries of Pittsburgh in Pittsburgh and blabbed to a Rolling Stone interviewer about how much she thoroughly hated Pittsburgh and an entire city (including many of my family members) collectively called for her head on a spit. And then there was that other time when Sienna Miller had one of the worst New York accents I’ve ever heard (in 21 Bridges). So I was a little worried about Sienna Miller in this, but, well, I have to give it up to her. The script requires her to hit some pretty specific, emotional beats, primarily at the end, which she accomplishes quite successfully (I cried. Sienna Miller made me cry). 

Despite how uneven Wander Darkly feels, it’s still worth a watch – there are some truly interesting moments for sure, as writer/director Tara Miele’s unique brand of storytelling peeks through the calmer moments of the film. Miele’s story idea stemmed from a similar traumatic event she suffered with her husband – for a brief moment, she believed she was actually dead and living in her afterlife. That’s freaking cool. While Wander Darkly often prompts more questions than it provides a satisfying viewing experience, I know we’ll have the pleasure of seeing more from Miele in the future (like the Carol Burnett biopic she’s slated to direct) and I’m looking forward to it. Overall, I applaud the creativity here – the film attempts to deal with grief and trauma in a wholly original, beautiful way. And while I feel Adrienne and Matteo maybe probably definitely wouldn’t have lasted during a pandemic, who knows? If Braunwyn and Sean from RHOC aren’t getting along anymore, what the hell do I know about relationships anyway? 

Wander Darkly is available to watch on demand now.