Revolutionary Road, a cinematic adaptation of the novel by Richard Yates, is a compelling character study as well as a brutal, emotionally-straining examination of a marriage in turmoil that denounces the American Dream as a cruel charade. Director Sam Mendes, who had previously helmed the 1999 film American Beauty, returns to his roots in crafting this powerful suburban drama. Revolutionary Road is a truly extraordinary motion picture that harnesses spellbinding emotional discharge and enthralling repugnance, employing two talented and captivating lead actors (Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio, reuniting in a movie for the first time since 1997's Titanic) to bring to the screen a masterwork of domestic isolation. Bearing in mind Mendes' penchant for polished hysteria (and considering the source material), it makes perfect sense for Revolutionary Road to linger on the bubbling pot of emotive poison splashing on the marriage of the protagonists. This is a beautifully mounted voyage of discomfort, scrutinising the forever expanding line that divides two individuals who've lost interest in open communication, and who are forced to preserve their decaying lifestyle and status in the name of matrimony. Those keen to reaffirm the transforming power of love may feel like slashing their wrists after watching this bleak drama during which love turns into loathing, defiance and tragedy.
Trying their best to conform to mid-1950's standards of social grace and marital comfort, Frank (DiCaprio) and April (Winslet) Wheeler have settled resentfully into stultifying suburbia but fantasise of reclaiming their lives as free spirits. They're living the American Dream; however their lives are trapped and unfulfilled. April's acting aspirations are sunk beyond salvaging, and Frank works everyday at a job he can barely tolerate. They begin coming apart at the seams, and endeavour to rejuvenate and rescue their marriage.
Concise, carefully placed flashbacks depict Frank and April in happier times, but now they have become stagnant and indignant...at least under the surface. Outwardly the couple are still trying to be happy, impulsively deciding to take the kids and move to Paris. However, a combination of mutual loathing and growing unrest (not to mention infidelity) threatens their lives, and they begin to turn on each other with cataclysmic consequences.
The callousness which pulls Frank and April apart is where Revolutionary Road hits the hardest. Playing with steadfast gender roles and suburban complacency, the film opts to portray the slow burn path, charitably exhibiting the erosion of spirit within the two bickering protagonists. Frank and April were united by cocktail-hour flirtation and promises that were eventually broken...and now the couple are left to cope with their messy lives. They've basically declared war on each other; April's pregnancy and Frank's possible new position (at a company he detests) is exercised as ammunition to unleash staggering diatribes against each other. Revolutionary Road is bursting with searing belligerent situations, but director Mendes never permits the discontent to blur into white noise. The film instead grips tighter with every passing scene, deepening the characterisation as Frank and April challenge their borders for the first time. They slowly come to the realisation that kids, a house in a typical neighbourhood, and prearranged domestic roles have transformed them into mere rats trapped inside a cage.
Frank and April aren't the only despondent ones (as we realise through subdued moments with supporting characters), yet their unhappiness is so immense they've no choice but to lay into each other. They pictured themselves as citified intellectuals, and treated their move to the suburbs (witnessed in a sole flashback) as a grand adventure. Seven years later, however, they've inhabited lives neither of them desired, but neither knows how to escape - Frank is stuck in a low-level position at a machine tooling company (the same company his father was an employee of for twenty years), and April is a lonesome and desolate housewife. They try and fail to keep disappointment at bay by pretending that - despite their suburban address, two small children and a picture window overlooking the perfectly manicured front lawn - they aren't like everyone else... But they are like everyone else. Moreover, they're crippled by the sense that they are superior to the excruciating banality they've fallen into. In order to escape this, their European dream is conceived. They ostensibly believe their troubles will recede in Paris, and that this move would prove they're not "just another American couple". April perfectly explains this at one stage: "Our whole existence here is based on this great premise that we're...special. And superior to the whole thing. But we're not. We're just like everyone else. Look at us, we've bought into the same ridiculous delusion...this idea that you have to resign from life and settle down the moment you have children. And we've been punishing each other for it."
Revolutionary Road is the type of novel Hollywood tends to botch, mainly on account of the story constantly taking place inside the heads of its characters, because the Wheelers aren't particularly affable, and because pessimism without obvious salvation is a tough sell. Considering that the story spends large sections inside the characters' heads, it's remarkable how well Mr. Mendes' motion picture adaptation is able to encapsulate the same truths about the characters. Small gestures are hugely significant, and complete sequences of emotions wash across a face within seconds. All the actors work magnificently to externalise a story all about what's never said. Frank and April lay it all out in their screaming brawls, but the true story lies within the moment Frank's face breaks during their fight, or the sceptically even tone in April's voice when she organises breakfast for him the morning after a major blow-out. In a supporting role, Michael Shannon plays John; the formerly institutionalised son of the Wheeler's realtor. Shannon (nominated for an Oscar) adds a unique energy to the movie, portraying the sole clear thinker of the story. He's a man entwined in mental illness, yet he perceives Frank and April for who they truly are. With a mere two sequences in which he features in, Shannon enriches the film with his cracked mischief, prodding the Wheeler discomfort to detonation.
With master cinematographer Roger Deakins, Mendes has fastidiously recreated suburban Connecticut of the 1950s. Production values are truly astonishing - from the immaculate costumes (drab grey suits & hats for the men, plain housewife clothing for the women) to the spot-on room decoration that creates a uniquely '50s atmosphere. The mood is even evoked through both subtle and obvious characteristics (think cigarettes). It's the equivalent of witnessing the decade through snapshots or newsreel footage. Multiple images are extremely remarkable, and shall forever remain embedded in my memory.
The screenplay (adapted by Justin Haythe) is teeming with dialogue cleverly pervaded by authentic '50s language, including adjectives (like "swell" and "quaint") and telephone numbers beginning with "Klondike 5". The dialogue is extremely well-written, delivered by a wonderful selection of actors. However, the screenplay is undermined by its abridged nature. Following a masterful prologue introducing Frank and April, the script fasts forward several years and the couple are suddenly married. Furthermore, the Wheeler offspring simply appear without an appropriate introduction, and play an unrealistically minor role in the family. The script leaves too many questions about what's behind these unhappy people, but in any case with these top-notch actors it's fairly possible to overlook this fault.
Thomas Newman's score is perhaps most spellbinding. It further establishes the impeccable '50s-style atmosphere and suitably mesmerises during the dramatic arguments. The poignant main theme (recurringly played at various points throughout the movie) is able to move a viewer to tears, especially towards the end when the combination of music and first-rate acting is extraordinary. Without Newman's eloquent music, Revolutionary Road wouldn't be half as powerful. In truth, moments devoid of music occasionally fail to engage.
With its morbid and incisive portrait of a suburban marriage, Revolutionary Road perhaps isn't the onscreen reunion of Kate and Leo that most moviegoers had fantasised about. For the actors, however, it's a challenge - both stars take an audacious leap into characterisations that are emotionally raw and often alienating. They are people we may loathe as chilly and condescending, but we can nevertheless relate to them as representations of unfulfilled yearnings. DiCaprio and Winslet construct a touching portrait of a couple splitting at the seams. Both performers impart a dire quality with minimal moves; internalising the repentance and fury using excellent facial contortions. We are offered little about the marriage of Frank and April preceding their relocation to the cruelly named Revolutionary Road, yet it may not have truly existed either.
Winslet's performance is consistently on target. DiCaprio is far more memorable, though, mostly on account of his commanding screen presence and the believable rage exhibited throughout the main argument scene. It's reasonably effortless to play one emotion...in this film, however, DiCaprio is able to play several at once - hurt, furious, betrayed, humiliated - with raw vulnerability. The actors throttle the pain gently, saving themselves for eruptions of both love and hate, interpreting a marriage assembled on a fleeting memory of passion that flew the coop long ago.
Completing the Titanic reunion is Kathy Bates, whose work as the Wheeler's realtor is utterly stunning. She perfectly embodies the characteristics we associate with this type of character, such as the love for chatting about dilemmas with a fellow woman and the intricate clothing with not a hair out of place.
Michael Shannon (previously mentioned) earned a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination for his brilliant and intriguing portrayal as the only one unafraid to speak the truth. He's a commanding scene stealer, and as he provokes Frank and April to confront the truth he never treads a foot wrong.
Other supporting actors make reasonably brief appearances, for instance Dylan Baker as an employee of the machine tooling company.
In the commercial movie marketplace, thematic dramas such as Revolutionary Road are a tough sell. Granted, this won't generate impressive box office receipts and it doesn't offer frivolous entertainment. Revolutionary Road instead offers two fantastic stars surpassing themselves (especially during those fierce confrontational scenes when their grievances turn corrosive) and first-rate filmmaking. The result, while unfortunately missing out on various deserving Oscar nominations, is another Sam Mendes masterpiece - definitely among the best films of 2008. This is a rare classy literary adaptation infused with a beating heart, and it reaches a summit of dramatic gratification and pure emotional mutilation that's utterly mesmerising. According to the women who lived during the mid-1950s, cultural markers (movies, TV, radio, advertisements) assured them happiness in domestic servitude...but they weren't happy at all. One could consider Revolutionary Road a tribute to those women.
8.8/10