Enough Said (2013)

TV titans hangin' on the stoop. 

There are so many good things to like about this movie, I’m not sure where to begin. After I saw Fruitvale Station, I was pretty certain it was going to be my favorite film of 2013. Now I’m not so positive.

Enough Said is articulate, poignant, heartfelt, honest, kind, sincere, insightful, funny, and touching. Writer/director Nicole Holofcener somehow manages to put all these qualities together, using characters that are never clichéd or predictable.

The movie stars two of the most recognizable TV actors of the last 25 years: the late James Gandolfini, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. She’s Eva, a pleasant and playful massage therapist. He plays the genial Albert, who works at the museum of television history. There he transitions old broadcasts to newer, digital formats (kind of a neat job, really). Both are divorced, single parents, who live with daughters soon off to their freshmen years at college.

Eva and Albert meet at a swanky party, where they exchange pleasantries. Afterwards, he asks her to dinner.

From the outset she’s ambivalent. He’s a little overweight, so she doesn’t find him particularly attractive. Curious and lonely, she accepts his invitation anyway. What’s the harm?

The result is one of the best, least-awkward first dates in history. The banter is clever, rhythmic, interesting, and engaging. They make each other laugh, and share a winning chemistry. Unusually frank with each other, there’s a surprising mutual attraction, the result of an easy-going comfort to their togetherness. It feels like the start of a charming, mature, stable new relationship.

Eva mostly dreads her clients, complaining about them to married friends Sarah (Toni Collette; The Way Way Back, Little Miss Sunshine) and Will (Ben Falcone; “Not” Air Marshall Jon in Bridesmaids, and current husband of the brilliantly funny Melissa McCarthy). Who could blame her? From superficial, overly-chatty, rich housewives, to oblivious men with oppressively bad breath, most are intolerable boors. It seems all she can muster just to tolerate them. They talk at, rather than to, her. Still, it’s a living. So she dutifully lugs her massage table from her Prius, up flights of stairs, only to find customers who drone on endlessly about life’s minutiae.

One, however, (Marianne, played by Holofcener-regular Catherine Keener; Being John Malkovich, Out of Sight, the 40-Year Old Virgin, Friends with Money, Capote) seems a kindred spirit. Like Eva, Marianne is also a middle-aged divorcee, with a daughter preparing to leave the nest. She is interesting—a poet (Eva asks incredulously “you make a living doing that?”)—with a gorgeous home who, instead of simply babbling about herself, is generous, empathic and a good listener. Over complaints about their failed marriages and ex’s insufferable habits, Eva and Marianne soon become friends.  

Eva makes a fateful choice to keep a secret from both Albert and Marianne. It’s an immature, regrettable, and devastating decision, one from which she cannot return. As a result, Eva begins questioning her relationship with Albert, and slowly, subtly and deliberately pulling away.

The scenes between Eva and Albert feel so genuine, some almost made me uncomfortable. They hit too close to home. Anyone who’s ever been in a serious relationship will recognize the wild shifts in power: once eagerly-anticipated phone calls instead now are screened. Rather than finding excuses to spend time together, other plans start to take precedence. Eva stops seeing his charms, instead only recognizing his shortcomings. Albert is criticized for meaningless indiscretions, such as not having bedside tables, or being able to whisper. Sex becomes clumsy, less spontaneous and infrequent. Eva tries to convince herself that she’s merely being neurotic, overly anxious, and possessive. In reality, everything’s going to be alright, isn’t it? When things seem slightly off, Albert asks her “what’s wrong?” She replies “nothing,” even though clearly something is. Who wants to open that enormous can of worms, when they can avoid conflict, and pretend things are fine?

Enough Said keenly observes how quickly relationships transition from that first thrilling but all-too-fleeting period of a relationship—the intoxicating first flush of realizing someone new really wants to be with me!—into an altogether different one. Suddenly and without warning, things change. The giddy excitement and impulsive sex evaporate. Private moments become filled with insecurity and self doubt. Confidence and stability quickly erode, replaced by the nagging question “are we really a good fit?” Eager to keep the peace, both parties make things worse by pretending everything’s still fine. Couples begin making lists of all the annoying qualities about the other person. Once that bell's sounded, it can't be un-rung. Traits we don’t like, and wish would change, become all we can see. 

There are lines in Enough Said that made me wish I’d said them. Not because they’re the smartest, or funniest, or cleverest strings of words ever uttered, but because they are brave. The characters who deliver them must have deep wells of self confidence, self respect, and self worth. How else to explain taking the risk of opening up so much, and leaving oneself so vulnerable?

Gandolfini and Louis-Dreyfuss are so convincing in their roles, never once did I think “that’s Tony Soprano!”, or “hey! Elaine, from Seinfeld!” Seeing him as the gentle, considerate, and tender Albert, made me sad he’s gone. Her Eva made me happy the next season of Veep isn’t far off. Given their talents, lofty statures and impeccable reputations, Gandolfini and Louis-Dreyfuss could’ve sleepwalked through their roles. We’d have likely still been entertained. They didn’t, and the movie’s all the better for it.

The film mostly focuses on the multi-faceted Eva character. She hides behind humor, rather than risking genuine connection. As the time for her daughter to leave for college approaches, the two drift apart, while at the same time a bond with one of her daughter’s friends grows. She cares about Albert deeply, but can’t help but sabotaging the relationship.

There’s a haywire, Woody Allen-esque twist, which some might claim is too convenient and coincidental, thus undermining the film’s authenticity. It’s a valid point, though I didn’t find any of those things to be the case. I’m unsure whether or not to divulge the particulars, for fear of ruining the surprise. I never saw it coming. However, it’s central to the story, as well as to why the film’s as compelling and entertaining as it is. In the interest of not spoiling it, I think I’ll leave it be, and let you discover for yourself.

Enough Said is filled with honesty, compassion, and humor. It’s characters are vibrant, sharply contrasting, and possess real depth. They react towards one another, and the developments in their lives, in the same ways real people would. It left me feeling warm, hopeful and content. It’s one of the best films of 2013.