I won’t say the big mid-movie twist at the heart of The Wife will come as a surprise to many (except maybe for the audience I saw it with – several audible gasps were released as if on cue), but it carries weight nonetheless. Glen Close elevates a potentially forgettable story to one of power and satisfactory redemption with her stoicism and barely contained rage, but stiff direction and uneven pacing keep The Wife from truly shining. It’s an enjoyable film with enough tension to keep you interested, but it never quite lives up to the greatness of Close’s performance.
The Wife takes place predominately in 1992 when Joe Castleman (Jonathan Pryce) receives word that he’ll be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. His wife Joan (Close) takes the news in stride but doesn’t seem as enthusiastic as her husband. It’s when the couple flies to Sweden, along with their son David (Max Irons), to accept the award that things begin to get dicey.
There’s obvious tension between Joan and Joe, and Joe and David, and, well, Joe and everybody. The stress and anxiety are made worse by the presence of would-be biographer Nathaniel (Christian Slater), who won’t take no for an answer when it comes to writing a book about the celebrated author. We follow not only as the ceremony is prepared, but also back in time to Joan and Joe’s meeting, courtship, and artistic differences. I will say no more in fear of divulging too much.
The plot is not terribly complicated, but the subtleties of the story beg for it to be watched again once all is revealed. There are clues hidden everywhere in Close’s words, actions, and expressions – and even if you guess the secret early on, going back to spot these indicators is nearly irresistible. The tiniest of eye movements or slightest curl of the lip screams out loud everything we need to know while misdirecting the meaning of these gestures. Without Glen Close and her reserved yet powerful performance, The Wife is nothing more than a mediocre family melodrama. It still is that in many ways, but sometimes a single showing can elevate a film beyond its limitations.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.