Revolutionary Road

He should have taken her to Paris. He should have given her more time. He shouldn't have slept with that dumb brunette. He shouldn't have shouted at her, or called her "sick" or made as if he was about to strike her. He shouldn't have made her feel even more awful than she already did after the failure of the play she acted in. He should've listened to her more, understood her need for nonconformity. He should have taken her to a shrink at the first signs of depression.

He should've been more of a man...

Having said all these things, I wouldn't have the movie start and go and end any other way (good thing Richard Yates made the book that way and Justin Haythe saw it fit to write the screenplay the way he did).

In the sad, mad world of Frank and April Wheeler, that ending was inevitable.

And then there was Knox Business Machines and the run-of-the-mill bachelors and fathers offering unsolicited advice to Frank; the Wheelers' neighbors and good friends, the Campbells, who obviously were battling some low-lying demons in their relationship and home life, as well; John Givings, their realtor's medically depressed son, who became an immediate foil and a glaring reflection which so forcefully threw them toward reassessing their supposedly perfect life and "specialness."

And there, too, was the baby.

A heavy, beautiful one, this film. Made me swallow hard to push back the lump of dysphoria in my throat.

The tears rose, all the same. I am such a cry-baby.

Let's see you sit through this one and stand up cheerful.