Hola all. Massawyrm here.

At first glance Rachel Getting Married is exactly the type of film I tend to take a pass on. There’s nothing wrong with independent, fly on the wall documentary style dramas about dysfunctional families that lack any real sense of a produced feel or even a traditional score. But if you haven’t figured it out by now, I tend to be something of an escapist. Not that I don’t appreciate real life, but when I sit down in a movie theatre I’d like to see something more than what could be going on in the house next door. I want to see something bigger. Grander. If I’m to see reality, I want reality with all uninteresting bits cut out. And these tend not to cater to that kind of desire. In fact, they often wallow in the uninteresting bits.

But that’s not to say that I don’t occasionally find one that I really like. For the record, this is one that I really, really like. It is a film that not only did I enjoy watching, but has aged well the more distance I get from it. I love it when a director really reinvents himself, and here Jonathan Demme takes everything he’s mastered making political and musical documentaries and focused it into one of the single best and most personal films he’s ever made. It is a rare gem best likened to a film like Pieces of April rather than anything else.

The story is incredibly simple. Told over the weekend of a family wedding, the bride is forced to share her joyous weekend with another tumultuous event: the release of her self-absorbed, supposedly reformed drug addict sister from rehab. It does not go well. Anne Hathaway not only leads the film but steals the show with a career redefining performance that illustrates just how talented she is. Her transformation here is positively Tom Cruise-like in execution. You know that thing that Tom Cruise does in films like Magnolia in which he is every bit as charming and attractive as normal, but it is somehow refracted through the grotesqueries of a funhouse mirror and comes back as sleazy, slimy and altogether disconcerting? Well that is exactly what Hathaway does here in the role of Kym.

Sure, she is still Anne Hathaway, meaning that she is gorgeous, graceful and possesses a 1000 Megawatt smile that melts the hearts of mortal men. Here she’s even more attractive, made accessible with a very cool kind of alterna-chick vibe that she gives off in the opening scene as she lithely takes a drag off of a cigarette. But then she opens her mouth and begins to speak. And instead of words, out rolls a gargantuan wad of dysfunction and issues and you begin to get an all too familiar feeling. You know this girl. She’s fucking crazy. And you’re about to fall for her again.

Now, what works best about Rachel Getting Married is that it certainly doesn’t want you to fall for her again. In fact, it insists that you don’t. Kym is out of her damned fool mind. But it also isn’t reveling in her dysfunction either. It is a very authentic film about a family wrestling with their emotions about the ‘bad’ daughter while celebrating one of the most important days in the life of the ‘good’ one. Jonathan Demme loves these characters and treats them like his own family – that is to say he is completely unafraid to show us their warts and foibles but isn’t trying to get you to laugh at them while doing so.

Everything feels genuine. And Hathaway drives that home by being so real it hurts. At times the film is a slow motion train wreck as you sit there, hand over your mouth watching anxiously as Kym throws herself into exactly the situation you saw her getting into. And as painful as it is whenever she does so, the film always reels you back in and doesn’t let you suffer too long. There isn’t a moment of schedenfreud here, no laughter at the suffering of others, which really is my biggest beef with many films of this ilk. Uncomfortable comedy is one thing, but laughing at how fucked up people can be is a different story entirely. Rachel Getting Married has a lot more heart than that and proves it time and again.

Stylistically the film is a wonderful piece of low budget filmmaking. It evolves organically, letting the facts and little mysteries slip out naturally rather than in some contrived, deliberately withheld fashion like last week’s Pride and Glory. And as the film unfolds, the characters become more and more three dimensional and as messed up as Kym is, you begin to understand why. While it lacks a traditional score, the family and wedding guests are made up of a number of musicians, many of whom sit around in the background jamming with one another (as musicians often do), creating the ambience of music without there being something deliberately in the forefront. It proves to be a clever and well used trick letting the film move along but feeling very original in its execution.

It is shot very much like a documentary, with this fly on the wall, “this is the only place we could find to put the camera” kind of look that gives it an extra layer of grit. And the overall effect boils down to one word. Authentic. This film is incredibly authentic.

The film’s only flaw is its length. The third act of the film is very much the wedding itself and isn’t the madcap kind of “OMG! Where is the bride going?” experience that you expect from movies. It is a wedding. And a reception. That goes well into the night. And while there is plenty going on with all manner of emotional resolutions, there is about a five/ten minute stretch that gives the rave scene from Matrix Reloaded a run for its money in terms of length of needless dance sequences. Just as it starts to get almost comical, the film comes back and resolves itself with a thoroughly satisfying ending.

But make no mistake; this film is all about Anne Hathaway. She is simply incredible in this film in a role that I’d put a paycheck down saying she’s going to net herself an Oscar nod for. She’s been proving for years how good she is, but this is that proof in the pudding picture that puts her up at the top of her profession. From here on out she’s going to be talked about along with the very best actresses out there. Because, frankly, that’s what she is. And she just might find herself with the gold to prove it.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

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