In the new independent film “We Don’t Live Here
Anymore,” director John Curran’s lofty ambitions of
presenting a multifaceted, honest story of adulterers falls short
despite superb performances by the four leads and striking
cinematography.

This excessively wrenching drama, based on the short stories
“We Don’t Live Here Anymore” and
“Adultery” by Andre Dubus, jumps right into a
half-drunken scene.Jack (Mark Ruffalo, “Eternal Sunshine of
the Spotless Mind”), and Edith (Naomi Watts, “21
Grams”), the wife of his best friend Hank (Peter Krause,
“Six Feet Under”), slip off to get more beer and plan
their next sordid rendezvous. Later that night, Terry, Jack’s
wife (Laura Dern, “Jurassic Park”), questions his
recurrent need to “run errands” with Edith. He
dissuades her from the notion by suggesting that she and Hank
fooled around while they were gone and that she’s feeling
guilty about it. The audience is immediately aware that these types
of fights occur very regularly in the chaotic Linden household. And
although the progressively ugly disputes are well portrayed, given
great depth with the chilling performance of Dern and the brooding,
passive-aggressive portrayal of Jack by Ruffalo, the viewer is
given little to show what got the characters to their miserable
state. The director does include a few disconnected flashback
sequences in which Jack recalls Terry as the beautiful, carefree
woman he fell in love with, but nothing to show that any of that
affection still exists.

While Jack and Terry’s relationship is scantly dealt with,
Hank and Edith’s is completely nonexistent. Hank is a
self-centered, philandering writer whose own career is going
nowhere, while Edith is the diligent housewife, intelligent enough
to realize her husband’s wayward ways but too weak to stop
catering to his every need. They appear, throughout the movie, to
have nothing in common except a daughter and a house. The audience
has only the assumption that a passionate past once existed, but is
left rather unsatisfied. Furthermore, the close friendship of Terry
and Edith is constantly alluded to, yet only a few forced scenes
show that they even talk outside the group gatherings.

Although the lack of back story is disappointing, the visuals
throughout the film are beautiful. The contrast between the Linden
house — messy and chaotic — and the Evans home —
neat and sterile — parallels their respective relationships.
Terry constantly lays her feelings on the line in knock-down,
drag-out battles with Jack that are lurid and disturbing. She
details to Jack her sexual encounter with Hank, egging him on,
waiting for a reaction that never materializes. Conversely, Hank
and Edith rarely discuss their relationship, dealing with each
other at arm’s length.

The cinematographer, Maryse Alberti, also draws beautiful visual
parallels between Jack’s perception of time and his
environment: the speeding train marching onward and the gushing
river where he takes the kids. This river is where he comes to the
realization that not only is his youth slipping away, but that he
doesn’t have the guts to leave Terry and accept the
ramifications of that decision. The sex scenes, though unnecessary,
do serve to show the desperation of the characters. They’re
so emotionally starved, so trapped, that the sex is more of a
release than a show of love or passion, as the scenes graphically
demonstrate.

In the end, the acting and cinematography can only do so much.
Although the four leads, who all give memorable performances, flesh
out the characters individually, the script leaves their
relationships hanging in limbo. The fights between Jack and Terry,
initially powerful and persuasive, grow weary without hint at any
underlying motivation. Throughout the film the characters remain
too scared or weak to say out loud what they all know. Their
problems, while attempting to endear them to the audience, only
scratch the surface of the subject’s potential.

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars.