Written and directed by Sam Levinson
Starring Zendaya and John David Washington
Running time 1 hour 46 minutes
MPA rating: R
Available on Netflix Feb. 5

by Jaime Davis, Staff Writer, The Fixer

Imagine being a director (and the child of a well-known filmmaker), your work buzzed about, who, at the premiere for your latest film, forgets to thank your significant other. On the way home from the event, you and your partner get into it about them not being thanked and how much it hurt them. And then later, imagine reading a scathing review of said film in the LA Times that annoys you so much, that you think about it and think about it and think about it some more, until it festers obsessively in your brain and you want to scream. After dealing with both of these situations, you just might have a movie on your hands. And if you’re filmmaker Sam Levinson, the director who allegedly dealt with both of these things, then you have a really good movie on your hands called Malcolm & Marie.

The premise is quite simple: Malcolm (a fired up John David Washington) and his partner of the past five years, Marie (Zendaya, quite literally a queen of queens) arrive home after his latest film premiere. During the event, he gives a speech in which he forgets to thank her, despite the fact that the film may or may not be based on her life so far. Upon their return, Marie ever so coolly fixes Malcolm some Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (or Kraft Dinner as the Canadians call it) before absolute hell breaks loose. What ensues is one hour and 46 minutes of combative discussion, endless personal backstory, tender negotiations, and one finely acted monologue after another. There’s a lot to take in–while the film first and foremost feels like an exploration of who we are to the people we care about the most, how we show up (or don’t) for both those we love and ourselves, Levinson seems like he’s got quite a few things to say, especially about racism, bias in the entertainment industry, the “point” of cinema, and film criticism. Pease forgive me as I self-indulgently address the film criticism point, just for a moment I swear.

Some of the folklore behind Malcolm & Marie claims that basically, Levinson is still butthurt over a particular LA Times review of his 2018 film Assassination Nation (Letterboxd users say it’s this one, but I don’t know anything about anything so don’t quote me). He is apparently sooo emo over this review that he wrote a whole diatribe for Malcolm’s character to run off at the mouth about the nature of cinema, specifically how critics view other’s art. Malcolm simultaneously frets over and rips into this white LA Times film critic, painting her as an uninteresting, bad writer, woke to the point of being insufferable. He gives an impassioned speech about how artists, directors, EVERYONE basically should be bold and reckless, and who the hell even knows what drives a director anyway? That shit’s a total mystery. All that matters is whether the movie has heart, not the message behind it.

I have to tell you, as someone who’s eagerly watched thousands of movies from Van Wilder to every Sandra Bullock romcom ever cranked out to decipher greater meaning…well, Malcolm & Marie had me a bit in my feelings, sure that this would be my final review as a “film critic.” For a second, I was all “I’m out. Done. I hereby resign from film writing for MovieJawn or any outlet.” Like, have I been missing the real point of cinema this whole time?

But then I thought about it more, and more and more, kindaaa like a director obsessing over a bad review, and I decided that just like people can make movies any damn way they please, I can “read” or watch a film any damn way I please. So while Malcolm (or is it Levinson?) has a point that the emotional core of a film is critical, I don’t think the message is necessarily unimportant. And that got me thinking about a tweet I saw recently from film critic Robert Daniels:

Now, again, I know nothing about nothing, so I’m not sure if Daniels was actually relating the above to film criticism, but I see how it can be included here. I can’t speak for other film writers, but the reason I write is because yes, I love movies, but also because I want to better understand relationships, behavior, and people in general through the mode of storytelling that is film. And while this can constitute a movie’s heart, I also see this understanding being more akin to the overall message or messages that movies contain. I think Levinson is totally right–even if a filmmaker shares his vision or idea with others, it probably only fully makes complete sense in their own head. Like I’m sure David Lynch has explained to death whatever the hell is going on in Mulholland Drive but if I could just get in his head, I’d probably understand it way more, you know? So in that way, film messages can be highly subjective. And that, to me, is the coolest thing about film criticism: everyone can come to the table with their own thoughts or readings of a film based on their own experiences and viewpoints. Which is why more diverse critics need to be at this table, always. To me, film criticism, like academic research, is just a conversation. While academic knowledge adds to previous conversations and bodies of work in particular fields, film criticism is a conversation we all collectively have surrounding the films, filmmakers, and artisans that help make movies possible. The world is changing constantly–we need criticism to reflect that change as well.

Okay, so that boring, rambly paragraph up there is really just saying that Levinson’s script has a point about the sometimes misguided, inflated notion of film criticism, but I think it’s okay to just pump the brakes a bit. Criticism is important for sure, but it isn’t that serious. And I’m directing that more at Levinson, not at fellow writers.

I’m so sorry, because I’m sure you came here all innocent and shit to read something light and frothy about the amazing talent of Zendaya and how she wore her own clothes in the movie and how she and John David Washington have sizzling chemistry for days instead of my really inarticulate, juvenile thoughts on, of all things, film criticism. So let me tell you that Zendaya IS an amazing talent and she DID outfit herself in the film and she and JDW DO play off of each other so well that it’s hard to tear your face away from the screen for almost two hours. And yes, JDW is a really gifted actor and all, and his contributions to this film are incredible (he and Zendaya are credited as producers and helped mold the film into its final iteration). However, this is Zendaya’s movie, from start to finish. If you’ve caught her in Euphoria or the latest Spider-Man iteration, you will not be surprised to hear that she is something fierce to behold here. Her work in Malcolm & Marie is very special indeed – nuanced and painful and joyous all at once, and she deserves every bit of praise she gets. While some have lamented the 12-year age difference between her and JDW, this was pretty much the last thing on my mind. She’s not a child, nor underage (she’s 24), and JDW isn’t in the winter of his life. Yes, she’s most known for playing high schoolers, but she’s totally allowed to and capable of playing her own age.

In addition to knockout performances, to see M&M is to know that it looks gorgeous, thanks to cinematographer Marcell Rév. Its camera moves are stylish, in that Levinson way, with a beautiful tracking shot early in the film that sweeps the exterior of their modern home. The soundtrack, courtesy of music supervisor Jen Malone, perfectly matches the swinging moods of our characters, with James Brown, Dionne Warwick, Duke Ellington & John Coltrane, William Bell, Frankie Reyes, Outkast, and more all making an appearance. The script, despite being written by a white man, is sensitive towards its two Black characters and how they must negotiate and navigate their way through a biased Hollywood; I wonder if Zendaya and John David Washington offered significant insight into the script as part of their producing roles. While perhaps the relationship between Malcolm and Marie isn’t the healthiest, their connection is heavily emotionally charged, and while you’d think watching a near two hour-long fight might get old after a while, Zendaya and JDW put in some real work to keep it interesting.

At one point in the film, Marie issues a warning to a hyped up Malcolm–on the brink of drinking his own Kool-Aid, she suggests he keep close to those who ground him. With such a stellar autobiographical film now under Levinson’s belt, this is an excellent reminder for the director, who I’m sure won’t forget to thank his wife ever again.