by @saidonescottishlady
A gloriously awkward reminder of why grown-up dramas matter
There’s something wonderfully old-fashioned about The Invite. Not old-fashioned in a dusty, nostalgic way, but like the sort of grown-up film my parents would get a babysitter for. They’d come home talking about marriages, affairs and complicated adult relationships that were completely beyond me. Think the sort of intelligent relationship dramas Hollywood used to make routinely – Annie Hall, Kramer vs. Kramer – films that trusted conversation rather than spectacle to hold an audience.
It opens with one of the most believable marital rows I’ve seen on screen for years. Angela and Joe, played by Olivia Wilde and Seth Rogen, have reached that point where every conversation feels like another battle. The anger isn’t theatrical. It’s weary, sharp and painfully recognisable. You can almost feel years of resentment spilling out of every line.
Without telling Joe, Angela has invited their upstairs neighbours for dinner. Hawk and Piña, played by Edward Norton and Penélope Cruz, appear to be the couple everyone else imagines they ought to be. They’re glamorous, confident and seemingly devoted to each other. They also have an extremely enthusiastic sex life, enthusiastic enough for Joe to have contemplated complaining about the noise. It’s one of those throwaway observations that has you laughing while simultaneously wondering where on earth this evening is going.
Based on Cesc Gay’s acclaimed Spanish film Sentimental (released internationally as The People Upstairs), and adapted by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, The Invite is almost theatrical in its simplicity. Four principal characters, one apartment and ninety-odd minutes of conversation. Yet every revelation shifts the balance of power. Every assumption you make is challenged a few minutes later.
Olivia Wilde directs with remarkable assurance. After the joyous energy of Booksmart, this is an altogether more intimate piece, but she demonstrates the same confidence with performance and pace. It never feels static because every glance, every silence and every uncomfortable confession matters.
It also contains one of my favourite pieces of casting this year. Penélope Cruz has eyebrows so magnificent that I spent half the film mentally composing instructions for my next salon appointment. If they can recreate those, I’ll be delighted.
What I loved most was how often my loyalties shifted. One minute I was entirely on one person’s side. The next, I couldn’t bear them. Then someone else would reveal another layer and I’d change my mind all over again. Every one of these characters is capable of being selfish, kind, infuriating, generous, funny and vulnerable. Just like real people. That’s what makes the film feel so truthful.
Anyone who has ever loved somebody, lived with somebody or wondered whether they’re getting relationships remotely right will recognise something here. You might not always like what you see, but you’ll almost certainly recognise it.
Note: Click the pics to go thought to the trailers for each film.
Coat On or Kettle On?
Worth the trip, or worth the wait?
It depends.
Will it work at home? Absolutely. In many ways it’s like watching a brilliantly acted stage play. But I’m very glad I saw it in the cinema, sharing every awkward silence and nervous laugh with a room full of strangers, all of us quietly wondering which of the four characters we were most like. Just don’t ask anyone which of the four characters you’re most like. You may not enjoy the answer… unless, of course, they are saying your eyebrows are like Penélope’s.
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