les Berkman se séparent

Apparently, I'm on a Jesse Eisenberg kick right now (the last three days I've spent watching something with him in it). One could be on a worse kick, I suppose. I've been meaning to watch Noah Baumbach's renowned film for quite sometime, and I'm glad today was the day. To keep it short, the film moved me; it was drôle and removed, but when it needed to bite, it sunk its teeth in. I wish the French title at least tried to be somewhat more creative; Les Berkman se séparent is just plain weak compared to The Squid and the Whale.
As I watched, I couldn't help but notice the fingerprints of producer, Wes Anderson (the only film to date that he has produced besides his own), all over the place. Granted, many of The Squid and the Whale's similarities to Anderson's work may be chance, they can't all be. The two had just previously colaborated in The Life Aquatic, as writers. Clearly, the two shared a similar vision at around this time in their filmmaking careers.


The family dynamics are fascinating; as the movie begins, Bernard (Jeff Daniels) is instantly like-able. He is furry-faced, intelligent, even-tempered, and after all, the family didn't break up due to him: it was Joan (Laura Linney) who was having affairs for last few years. Slowly and subtly, the film reveals an uglier, cheaper, controlling, and more selfish-side of Bernard (nobody would want to be married to this insecure, sad, washed-up academic). Walt (Eisenberg) is quick to side with his father; Frank (Owen Kline) is quick to side with his mother. We see that coming from the opening scenes of the family playing tennis together, when Frank states, "Mom and me versus you and Dad." Indeed, that is the dynamic of the first half of the movie.

The Squid and the Whale doesn't wind up being about blame, or who is right and wrong, it is rather a revelation that guilt, disappointment, depression, even self-destruction are inevitably part of the backwash of divorce. Those unfortunate realities automatically seep into the often underrated, and latently complicated lives of the children involved. At the same time, the film offers redemption in its most painful moments; its very title is the thing that changes the course of the narrative from doomed, to forgiving. For example, Walt falls for a fellow classmate, the cute, bookish Sophie (Halley Feiffer). He clearly likes her a lot, but ultimately sabotages the relationship in an attempt to follow the poor advice of his would-be-casonova-of-a-father. Walt painfully pushes her away and denies her intimacy, and we are helpless to watch him so ignorantly try to keep his dad's approval.
As Bernard is being taken into an ambulance after a near heart-attack, his pathetic olive branch/ backhand (whatever it is, its homage to Godard's classic, À bout de souffle ) to his ex-wife is enduring. We see for another brief moment that the two deeply care for each other, even if they can't make it work together. Another essential moment takes place soon after as Bernard lies in his hospital bed. His loyal son, Walt (whom had recently been growing somewhat resentful of his apparently flawed father), comes to him to offer his support. To be brief, they end up treating each other a bit roughly at such a fragile time; Walt cries a little, and Bernard tenderly, finally shows his son some true affection by taking his hand. Anyone thinking this movie comes across as too remote, and lacking in feeling, has but to re-watch these scenes. In the end, we know that everyone is going to turn out alright. Sure, there will be more outbursts and embarrassments to deal with, but they have learned that they can still get through it all, whether they are all living together, or not.