Review: 'Two Strangers Trying Not To Kill Each Other'

Getting old isn't for the faint of heart. Neither is love.

Joel Meyerowitz and Maggie Barrett are a longtime married couple facing mortality together in "Two Strangers Trying Not To Kill Each Other.”

Watching “Two Strangers Trying Not To Kill Each Other,” the question arises in your mind, again and again. “How is this a documentary?”

First of all, the film by Manon Ouimet and Jacob Perlmutter is visually stunning in a way most fact-based films simply aren’t. Every frame is like a photograph, suffused with bright colors and expertly using light and shadow, whether it’s an image of the rolling Tuscan countryside or longtime married couple Joel Meyerowitz and Maggie Barrett lounging on the couch together. Meyerowitz is a world-famous photographer who was one of the first to embrace color, so perhaps the filmmakers were inspired by his work.

But the other thing is how deep Meyerowitz and Barrett allow the filmmakers to go into the joys and resentments of their union. The word “intimate” doesn’t begin to capture it. We’re with them lying in bed, taking baths, tenderly massaging each others hands, angrily arguing. By the end of “Two Strangers,” we feel we know this couple better than we know most of the people in our own lives.

The film screened Monday at the Wisconsin Film Festival, and will screen again Wednesday afternoon.

Meyerowitz is 84, Barrett is 75, and the couple are both in fantastic shape both physically and mentally. Their life in semi-retirement in a villa in Italy is like a dream version of growing old. After 21 years of marriage, they’re able to talk deeply and meaningfully about their lives, their love for each other, and the inevitability of death growing closer.

And yet. As tender as their marriage has been, there’s always been an imbalance. Meyerowitz is a celebrated artist, with his work hanging in museums around the world and crowds coming to see him talk. He casts a long shadow, even inadvertently, especially on his wife, a talented writer who somehow never caught a break.

In a telling scene at a gallery opening, we see a two-shot of husband and wife with their backs to each other, each talking to a different person. The audio turns up on Meyerowitz’s conversation, and he’s talking about himself. Then it turns up on Barrett’s conversation, and she’s talking about him, too.

Being nine years older, one would predict that ill health would find Meyerowitz first. But in a twist of fate, it’s Barrett who takes a nasty fall, and Meyerowitz becomes caregiver. He’s loving and attentive to her every need, but we sense his relief in the moments where he’s able to go back to his negatives and his light table.

Eventually, keeping up the Tuscan villa becomes too much for the old couple, and they move back to Meyerowitz’s home of New York. He’s happy to be back, but she feels even more in his shadow, leading to a protracted blow-up that’s stunning in both its ferocity and its precision.

Some viewers might be dispirited to see that even this couple, with all their advantages and a clearly deep love for each other, are still trying to work things out. But I think Oimet and Perlmutter, a married couple themselves, see beauty and bravery in the struggle, in a couple still grappling with the challenges of love right up until the end.