Revolutionary Road

While watching Revolutionary Road, based on the novel by Richard Yates, I found myself somewhat annoyed by the staginess of it. It was almost as if I were watching a play, not a film. The performances were pushed somewhat out of proportion—larger than life in a way that is seen in theater, not the more intimate, seemingly voyeuristic experience we are used to in the cinema. But almost like a wine that is at its best after it has had a chance to breathe, this film keeps growing on me as the scenes replay in my mind.

I’m beginning to see that the theatrical elemnt is really an extension of what made the characters tick. So to have the actors ‘act’ in this way is really an extension of who they are, each playing out what is expected of them in their lives. Although April Wheeler (Kate Winslet), breaks out of this mold. She is the rebel, the revolutionary on Revolutionary Road.

April's husband, Frank Wheeler (Leonardo diCaprio) must prove his manhood, his success in business, his dominance over his wife, simply because that’s what a male is supposed to do in America in the mid-1950s. April, a would-be actress, sees the suburban life as a death and something she desperately wants Frank and herself to break free from. But eventually she comes to understand that it isn't something Frank can so easily do.

The myth of suburbia—with its manicured lawns and shuttered houses, its concerned and helpful neighbors present all too alluring a picture to Frank. And although April takes him back to when they met and when Frank was a budding man of the world with dreams that could take the two of them anywhere, “life happened.” The two are victims of circumstance, the power of the majority, the comfort of what is already known.

Directed by Sam Mendes, both diCaprio and Winslet perform their roles with provoking and often painstaking intensity. Michael Shannon as the mentality ill son of the Wheeler’s over-zealous real estate agent provides a gloomy affirmation of April’s vision of the suburbs as a place where dreams are scorned and vanquished. And David Harbour as Shep Campbell, the neighbor who lusts after April and who provides a momentary release and distraction for her, seems to have emigrated straight from the 50s. He’s got the swagger of the American male of that time, the obvious buy-in to the American dream, and the demeanor of a family guy who is only too willing to stay at the party a little too long while his wife goes home to the kids.

Revolutionary Road, the novel, is considered by James Wood of the New Yorker, and apparantly by many others, as Yates’ best. The story is a statement of the American post-war era of the mid-fifties and delves deeply into the collective and individual treatment of gender, of conformity, and of the bittersweet comfort of letting go to conformity versus the excitement and loneliness of breaking free.