Sharp dialog in a movie about a marriage gone awry

Rating: 9/10 (5 November 2009)

It's the 1950s in the United States and Frank and April Wheeler meet, marry, have two kids and purchase a picturesque house in the suburbs. This attractive young couple seems headed for a realization of the America Dream, but they understand too late the compromises that they must accept to get there. Frank is in marketing for Knox Business Machines where he goes every day dressed in a suit and tie, wearing his fedora. Sitting in his cubicle day after day he comes to feel that this is not what he had in mind for his life. Meanwhile, on the home front April is feeling the boredom of the daily routine intensely oppressive. Instead of admitting that maybe life is not going to turn out to be as glamorous as envisioned in some unspecified fantasy, April has the idea that she and Frank can break out of their perceived drab existence by moving to Paris. She convinces Frank of this idea and right then you know that rough times are probably ahead, since neither of them has the ability to think far enough ahead to see what such a move would entail. They have arrived at one of those node points in a relationship that, once a big idea is on the table, and under serious consideration, it's going to be difficult to back off of it or go forward with it, particularly if the idea is not supported equally. Maybe Frank and April's experiment could have been performed, but when the complications of a promotion for Frank and April's pregnancy arise you realize that the marriage is probably doomed.
This is a film where you drop in on some people and get to know them well and see the tragic consequences of their decisions. Frank and April get so deep into their misadventure that they can't right the ship by the time they grasp their situation. There is some keenly observed dialog, like Frank's comment, "Knowing what you've got, knowing what you need, knowing what you can do without - That's inventory control." The actors are up to the task with the highlight being Michael Shannon playing John Givins, a truth-telling ex-mathematician who is suffering from something like Asperberger's syndrome. His dialog is so trenchant that you have to recoil from it in sympathy with Frank and April. When Givins pointed to April's obvious pregnancy and said, "I'm glad I'm not going to be that kid," I was stunned that someone could dream up such a cutting remark.
The period details like autos, furniture, dress, and street scenes are strikingly well done. While Frank and April's story may have been more common in the 50s, it could easily be translated into a contemporary setting, except for one crucial detail. In contemporary America April could have made a case for a legal second trimester abortion under a doctor's care, based on her mental health. I don't know the intent of the book, but this film makes a case for pro-choice.
There are things to be learned from watching this. If you are on the path to marriage, then it can be a cautionary tale; for all others, it can prompt candid reflection on where you are and where you are going.