It is a testament to Kathryn Hahn’s skill as an actress that she can prove even more transfixing than someone as talented as Paul Giamatti. Known for her wit and comic timing, she flourishes, even in films which are not similarly blessed. Tamara Jenkins’s Private Life is an altogether different challenge, as she and Giamatti’s character seek to have a baby while in their mid-forties and contend with all the complexities such offers. It is eye-opening material to those who have not been exposed to it; if you were not familiar with the convolutions of IVF before Private Life, you will be after.

This subject is naturally emotive, helped by the fact that the film has a director and actors who understand how to give this journey texture and stakes. Some of the best exchanges are when the leading duo are at odds with one another. Bad news unleashes their worst impulses: Giamatti’s Richard is a little insensitive given the circumstances, while Hahn’s Rachel often fails to see how the complexity of his arguments may be valid in these tense situations. That’s not to say that either is at fault; the film is not interested in apportioning blame, even if this is often tempting for its characters. Jenkins could have decided to make the central attempt to conceive the primary source of drama, but her film feels more honest because she does not want to portray her leads as a couple desperately in love but disadvantaged by unfortunate circumstances. They are in love, but their relationship is being wrenched back and forth by the tug of war that their infertility has presented them. Rachel is not as willing as Richard to explore egg donation as an option, but he is not quick enough to understand why she might be distraught to sacrifice her genetic role in the conception of their child. This is just one of the mini-battles which consume their life but it demonstrates how the film mines meaty material from a central conflict, which could merely be linear instead of multi-faceted.

The bumps in the road mostly avoid feeling artificial. Kayli Carter’s character catalyses drama elsewhere in the couple’s life. Her mother, played by Molly Shannon, takes slightly too long to feel any more than two-dimensional, but the role her character plays rewards the film’s devotion to its two leads. You might realise by now that this story is not exactly plot-heavy. It relies on its ability to endear the audience to its characters, so those who do not connect to this story may struggle, particularly when it overstays its welcome by five or ten minutes.

Yet, it allows the central pair to show incredible warmth, particularly when Carter’s character is around. It is heartening to watch them maintain this kind of affection for one another in spite of everything, particularly when they live in an idyllic, book-filled apartment in New York City. Cinephiles have become accustomed to living vicariously through charming, creative Manhattanites; there is more than a touch of Woody Allen to Private Life, particularly when its male characters discuss their female counterparts over a game of squash, or when they reference culture far too highbrow for this writer.

Nevertheless, Jenkins crafts greater reservoirs of emotion for her characters and seems much more willing to explore them. Some of her compositions may be flashy (Giamatti’s shadow looms over him in a moment of particular despair), but she ensures that the tone is understated enough to complement her character-driven approach. Such persists until the final frame, where she trusts her actors to convey a barrage of emotions in the most mundane of settings. This evolves into a celebration of their temerity and their dogged pursuit of what they realise to be important to them, an incredibly evocative way to end a film which has been just as audacious in tackling a subject so dramatic while insisting on remaining so nuanced.

Verdict:

Kathryn Hahn further proves how she is one of the greatest performers of her generation in a film which has the wit, warmth and wisdom to match. 

Rating:

9/10