It’s a standard story on paper. New York thirty-somethings’ Connor and Eleanor are a couple struggling to keep their marriage afloat after the passing of their infant son. Connor (James McAvoy) is the struggling restaurateur son of a wildly successful restaurateur (Ciarán Hinds). Eleanor (Jessica Chastain) is the ‘faculty brat’ daughter of her NYU professor father (William Hurt) and French-born mother (Isabelle Huppert). Unhappy in her marriage, she walks away from Connor and returns to her family’s home after jumping from a city bridge. Melodrama and heart-tugging should ensue. But first-time director Ned Benson‘s The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her/Him is bolder, more audacious than that.

Much like (500) Days of Summer or Blue Valentine, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby:Her/Him  finds a debut feature reexamining the cinematic relationship. Rather than one film following Connor and Eleanor’s choppy love, Benson splits its narrative into two separate films, :Him and :Her, which each tell the story from each perspective of the relationship. A combined :Them version debuted earlier in September. However, after seeing Her and Him as two separate, subjective stories, any attempt to combine the halves would render useless and unnecessary (Read Ryan’s review of The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them, here). Connor and Eleanor’s relationship together is standard indie romantic fare. But, by delivering each character dealing with the grief and confusion of a failing relationship away from each other, Benson gives us what we rarely see in film: a full picture of life that doesn’t compromise or steer the film’s audience into one narrative.

A combined :Them version debuted earlier in September. However, after seeing Her and Him as two separate, subjective stories, any attempt to combine the halves would render useless and unnecessary.

That being said, it’s actually rather difficult to look at Her and Him as two separate films critically, because without one the other would be nullified. They are, however, indeed rather distinct. Eleanor’s half is dark, morose and filled with grad-school angst. Connor’s is cooler, lighter and awkwardly balances Eleanor’s dramatic bend with a splash of late 90’s indie dramedy. As the title may hint, Benson gives Eleanor’s story more time of day. What Benson’s gimmick also provides for is much greater subtext and far less exposition than one is used to in current Hollywood filmmaking. While his script does meander into vague philosophical quips and one-liners on many occasions, his words are still strong and beautiful.

Jessica Chastain reaps the benefit of this the most. She is magnetic and the supporting cast in her narrative is fascinating. Barely given much screen time, her parents’ relationship is nearly as poignant of a portrait of the hardships of marriage as the entire double feature. McAvoy’s supporting cast lacks much depth. Bill Hader seems rather miscast as Connor’s chef pal and his whole staff adds an awkward humor to the Him half after the almost humorless first 100 minutes of the Her half. McAvoy plays Connor well though with brooding optimism that is undeniably charming but comparably unfocused next to Chastain’s hard-edged Eleanor.

I had a professor who once declared that if somebody isn’t together at the end of a film then it something isn’t working. To an extent, this is very true. Whether it be the lowball charm of the romantic comedy, the opulent nostalgia of the period romance or the Olive Garden commercial affection of the annual Nicholas Sparks drama, there is a natural human instinct to hope for the couple at the core of the film. That is precisely why The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby is a revelation of a debut feature. At the end of the nearly 200-minute drama, you’re not actually rooting for Connor and Eleanor. You are rooting for Connor. And you are rooting for Eleanor. It’s the rare film that is wise enough to realize that love may make the audience happy, but it may not make the characters happy. That is the beauty of The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her/Him. It gives its characters freedom, and more importantly, voice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ng4MD66WyU