Supporting role
Glenn Close excellent as woman reconsidering her marriage in ‘The Wife’
There are any number of reasons to watch a movie, but sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and watch a couple of great actors do their thing.
That’s the case with “The Wife,” Björn Runge’s engrossing film about marriage, truth, empowerment and, of all things, literature. The story is fine, but the movie features a terrific performance by Jonathan Pryce and a flat-out brilliant one from Glenn Close, who dials up a slow burn for the ages.
The film, set in 1993 (Jane Anderson’s script is based on Meg Wolitzer’s novel), begins with Joe Castleman (Pryce) unable to sleep, bouncing off the walls and waking his wife, Joan (Close). He’s waiting for something, nervously, and we don’t know why until early the next
morning when the phone rings: It’s the Nobel committee, and he’s just won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Joan is on the other phone, listening in. Joe, every bit the Major Important Novelist, says all the right things and is properly faux-humbled. Joan, in the other room, smiles, but then her eyes drift. Where is her mind going? Runge doesn’t leave us a lot of time to ponder — he cuts to the couple jumping up and down on the bed, celebrating. But that look lingers.
There’s a party, where fans, students and acolytes praise Joe’s achievement. He accepts congratulations, while Joan passes around champagne. Joe and Joan’s pregnant daughter (Alix Wilton Regan) attends, as does their son, David (Max Irons), an aspiring writer who worships his father’s talent while suffocating under his fame, thirsting for approval that is sparing at best.
From there it’s off to Stockholm for the ceremony, where the rest of the film unfolds over a couple of days. There are shopping trips arranged for the wives (Joan politely and firmly declines) — all the winners are men. Rehearsals and parties are battles of titanic ego.
Joe, like many people with a healthy sense of self-importance, is put off by nagging things. But the only real fly in the ointment is would-be Castleman biographer Nathaniel Bone (Christian Slater, good in a different kind of role for him), who has tagged along for the ceremony. Unfortunately for Nathaniel, Joe won’t have anything to do with him, and has declined participation repeatedly. ButNathaniel won’t be stopped so easily.
Thus, through a series of flashbacks, we learn more about Joe and Joan’s relationship. (Harry Lloyd and Annie Starke play the younger versions; Starke is especially effective channeling Close.) We’ve seen some hints — Joe is incessantly snacking, an indication of larger appetites he can’t control. But there is a lot more going on in their history than infidelities.
What’s so satisfying about the movie is the way in which Joan changes as more is revealed — and she allows herself to reconsider her life and her role in her husband’s. It’s slow, it’s considered, and Close does a lot of it with looks, movements, expressions. Her face and her body language at the dinner for Joe is priceless. At times Close can overdo it, but not here. Her eyes alone can signal frustration, anger and heartbreak, often at the same time.
Pryce is also good, capturing the arrogance of a man who has grown accustomed to hearing his work lauded, as well as slivers of doubt as to whether he really deserves them. Joe and Joan have been partners for a long time, and they know exactly which of each other’s buttons to push. And they aren’t shy about pushing them. That dynamic, and those performances, make “The Wife” a compelling film, and an excruciatingly entertaining one.