The other day, I attended a tutorial for my Creative Non-Fiction class. We discussed the ethics of writing about other people and the honesty of our writing, among other important topics. It was an interesting two-hour session. Somehow that following Saturday, I found myself back in that same two-hour class, listening to eerily similar discussions. Except now I was now being taught by Canadian actor and filmmaker Matt Johnson.
 

                  Surprisingly not a nightmare brought on by academic hysteria, Matt and Mara is an actual film showcased at the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF), directed by Kazik Radwanski. It focuses on the complicated friendship of the eponymous Mara (played by Deragh Campbell), a creative writing professor dissatisfied with her family life with musician Samir (Mounir Al Shami), and Matt (Johnson, only doing single duty as an actor this time around), an old friend and rebellious star of the writing world who has suddenly re-entered into Mara’s life. Having not seen any of Radwanski’s work before, I almost fooled myself into thinking it would be another one of Johnson’s self-insert dramedies. While it maintains a lot of the same grounded dryness, Radwanski escalates the film’s naturalism to an uncomfortable and exciting degree, but unfortunately left me disappointed with its character writing and story.

                  Easily the strongest aspect of the film is its cinematography by Nikolay Michaylov. So many scenes are filmed exclusively from close-quarter angles and long takes—sometimes within the general environment, but more often up in characters’ faces and broiling emotions. Entire conversations are carried just by focusing on subtly extreme facial performances, lingering just long enough to be uncomfortable or tense. Particularly towards the start of the film, it immediately drew me into this world, more than just a fly on the wall observing – it was like I was in the same room as the characters, watching as Mara admitted to lacking any common ground with her husband in front of his friends! How delightful!

                  The way conversations flow is also very immersive, for better or worse. From what I could tell, a lot of the script seemed to be improvised on set, or was at least directed in a very grounded, naturalistic manner. On one hand, this realistic approach leads to a lot of great moments that establish the daily humdrum of Mara’s life, while also generating some bouncy, tangible chemistry between her and Matt. There’s a whole sequence of them just wandering around the city and trying to smile at people passing by. I think this could’ve been a strange, even awkward tangent to go off on, if not for the infectious banter between the pair. Likewise, there’s moments showing Mara interacting with her students that feel exactly like my own interactions with my writing tutors. On the other hand, this leads to some painful, painful sequences of characters trailing off on discussions, teetering to the point of Woody Allen stuttering. Mara’s friend (Emma Healey) has this scene towards the middle of the film that runs almost into monologue length, with how often she uses “like” and “you know” and, while I know people who talk like that, it kind of drove me insane.

                  However, I think my biggest issue with the film is with one of its title characters—Mara. She’s written to be utterly insufferable as a person; a one-two punch of flake and wet blanket, barely supporting her family, let alone anyone other than Matt. And honestly? I kind of like that. I love watching flawed characters, and I think this movie generally does a good job portraying messy people—Matt himself is a great example of that, an impulsive prick who is treated and treats himself like he’s some all-important, controversial figure. It’s great to see him bounce off people in this movie, as well as when he finds himself brutally humbled. However, where Mara fails for me is in how her character arc progresses.

Without spoiling anything, I found that it has a similar problem to Sofia Coppola’s On the Rocks, in that it expects you to believe there’s any sort of reason why Mara and Samir’s marriage has any legs before or after the story ends. This is a woman who doesn’t enjoy music and leaves her coughing husband in the dust on a morning jog. This is also a man who would ditch commitments made with his wife to prioritise his band and doesn’t even ask about her life and friends. There is so little enthusiasm or chemistry between the two that even Matt (who is intentionally shown to make for an even worse pairing) seems like a better romantic partner for Mara, at least so her and Samir can move on. Instead, like Coppola, it reads of a filmmaker desperately trying to justify their own loveless marriage in film, with the excuse of “at least there’s worse people out there,” hinged on the presence of a child or avoiding the consequences of adultery.

                  While I think Matt and Mara is a worthwhile watch for its claustrophobic and naturalistic filmmaking, I think its ideas surrounding how we treat the past and relationships are ultimately incompatible with how its characters are written. Its performances are immersive and full of fun moments, but at times the story felt like a waste of time. I can at least take comfort in the fact that Matt isn’t running any of my university classes.