prologue

The opening credits for Ira Sachs third feature, Married Life, are a movie unto themselves, an agitated succession of post-WWII suburbanite symbology (generic, mathematically spaced table settings, paisley wallpaper possessed of a decidedly Charlotte Perkins Gilman-esque patina), inhabited by blank-faced animated cutouts (all vintage Madison Avenue smiles), and scored to Doris Day’s manic rendition of ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.’ Unsettling in its frenzied cheeriness, the sequence is also noticeably self-aware, as each image is literally torn asunder to reveal another, subterranean element, typically the names of Married Life’s principal cast and crew. This continuous action fosters expectation and inquiry: What lies beneath? (Given the film’s late-40s setting, it would hardly be a surprise if this sequence’s plasticine matriarch – serving meals and cleaning house with synthetic, mechanized delight – was ripped aside to reveal Rosie the Riveter).”