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The Dartmouth
April 23, 2024 | Latest Issue
The Dartmouth

'Road' traces tumultuous marriage

Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Alice (Kate Winslet) struggle to maintain the image of a perfect marriage in
Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Alice (Kate Winslet) struggle to maintain the image of a perfect marriage in
Correction appended

Perhaps the most overlooked part of "Revolutionary Road" is the white clapboard colonial house sitting at the end of a quiet, suburban street. Framed by red shutters and surrounded by a lush carpet of green grass, its beautiful exterior barely conceals the turmoil that transpires within its walls -- only a reinforced steel structure could withstand the weight of the grief and disappointment housed there. This building is the setting for the deterioration of a marriage within this moving, melodramatic story.

The film begins with the brief courtship of Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and April Wheeler (Kate Winslet), a relationsip that represents a glimpse of promise in post-World War II America. April harbors aspirations of being an actress, and Frank nurtures dreams of returning to Paris, where everyone seemed more alive. But Frank and April subjugate their desires for the sake of their marriage, and the two find themselves trapped in a world of "Leave It To Beaver" domesticity: Frank spends all day at a dead-end office job, while April tends to their children and picturesque suburban home.

The first argument between the two main characters comes early in the film. The heated quarrel initiates the unraveling of two very different individuals sharing the same prosaic life. The discord feels a bit contrived, but what becomes overwhelmingly apparent is how disconnected the two characters are from one another.

Adapted from the 1961 novel by Richard Yates, "Revolutionary Road" explores the compelling theme of how we deal with our search for self-satisfaction. As their union crumbles beneath the weight of false promises and unspoken animosity, we see that the Wheelers' dissolving marriage is a result of their frustration with their individual lives.

"No one forgets the truth, Frank," April tells her husband during an argument. "They just get better at lying."

Her words hit home -- no number of lies can conceal the fact that the two are indeed suffocating in their unproductive life together. Worse yet, the Wheelers chose to live this stifling life. The falsehoods they have fed themselves over the past seven years, and their discarded, unfulfilled fantasies manifest themselves in the forms of adultery, abortion, fractured friendships and, ultimately, immeasurable pain.

The result is a plot that is sometimes too weighed down by the heavy emotions of a relationship in danger of drowning in its own dysfunction.

Luckily, Justin Haythe's winding screenplay brings the Wheelers in contact with a host of brighter characters. The most poignant -- even with his schizophrenic outbursts -- is John Givings, played with deft exaction by the talented Michael Shannon, who earned an Oscar nomination for the role. John, a patient in a psychiatric facility, visits the Wheelers with his mother, the Wheelers' realtor (a passable Kathy Bates). His inappropriate outbursts create a much-needed break in the heavy drama. Despite his mania, John calls it like he sees it: The Wheelers don't fit the image of perfect domesticity, and they're fools for thinking they can. I wish Shannon had been given more scenes to work his thoughtful, often comical, magic.

One of the most maddening elements of the film is the frustration we feel with its characters. I often thought that one Wheeler should leave the other. Their reaction to the enormity of that decision, however, is what makes the characters fascinating: we know, without any line being uttered, that the dream of a life alone is a notion too selfish for either Wheeler to consider. Despite the pain they may inflict upon themselves, Frank and April continue trying to uphold the ideal image of the 1950s American family that drinks Ovaltine, eats dinner at 6 p.m. and suffers in silence.

DiCaprio plays Frank as a grounded, devoted husband. He is so childlike and hopeful in his love for his wife that he is blind to the fact that her growing resentment of him is no passing whim. Though he tells himself he's overreacting, he too begins to begrudge his devotion to his spouse.

"I can make you happy here," he tells April.

The earnestness in his expression makes you wish it were true.

Frank performs his duties, but with an artificial enthusiasm; he wears the hat of the breadwinner because it is expected, not desired. In fact, Frank doesn't really know what he wants to do, both in his career and at home. DiCaprio's performance is impressive, especially when he reveals glimpses of the charmer he plays so well, but it is no match for Winslet's hurricane of confliction.

Winslet, a Golden Globe winner for the role, plays April with a strength and fragility that is almost frightening. April, refusing to give up her dream of something different, and thus necessarily better, isolates herself so profoundly that she looks out of place in her own home. Yet, despite her detachment, she is reluctant to be alone and clings to Frank for dear life. Winslet pushes herself to the edge -- frequently breaking down in tears that are just as forceful as her screams -- and then jerks back with break-neck speed to resume a facade of composure and normalcy. Her remorse and bitterness are palpable, and the volatility of her emotions astonishing.

The chemistry between DiCaprio and Winslet has been evident since their pairing in the epic film "Titanic" (1997). Just as their careers have matured, their connection has grown, taking on a new level of comfort and ease. DiCaprio, his smooth baby-face projecting both determination and glee, glows with anticipation as he watches his co-star's every twitch and gesture. Winslet, a powerhouse whose sage expressions belie her age, dishes just as much as she takes. She can read DiCaprio effortlessly, knowing exactly where each shrug and flinch fits. Their tango is a study in listening, understanding and reacting, and the dance is sublime.

"Revolutionary Road" is stark and raw, providing an unforgiving representation of the decisions we make, question and regret. In almost every frame, there is the residue of lives unlived, hopes tarnished with time and the inability to let go of the unachieved. Each character, utterly stuck and incapable of saying the words that would lead to freedom, reaches out for some connection and finds little comfort in the companionship. "Road" is long and trying, but worth the journey.

The original version incorrectly stated that the lead female character in Revolutionary Road (2008) is named was Alice Wheeler. In fact, that character's name is April Wheeler.