Which Is Bullshit? My Own Marriage Or The One In “Scenes From A Marriage”?

Let me start off by saying if I looked like Jessica Chastain, my marriage would not, could not be bullshit because I would never wear clothes. Like ever.

Ever.

So, my husband and I would have sex all the time and drink wine and speak in hushed, sultry tones about existentialism, nihilism, and all the other isms, thoroughly enjoying each other’s highbrowed minds, bodies, and souls. 

Maybe I would even give a shit about his fantasy football team, who knows?

But I don’t [look like Chastain] so I do [wear clothes].

She’s a mirage, Oscar Isaac is a mirage, and quite frankly, so is the entire show. It’s emotional porn, created to spark a conversation about love, commitment, monogamy, and the sanctity of matrimony. And although HBO’s Scenes from a Marriage (an adaptation, in fact, of Ingar Bergmann's 1973 Swedish TV miniseries with the same name and premise) is about a union that ultimately doesn’t survive, their relationship does. Their attraction, love, passion, and absolute infatuation with and for each other does withstand to the bitter end. (Spoiler alert: Issac’s character Jonathan remarries, but he and Chastain’s character Mira continue to see, sleep with, and love each other, unbeknownst, of course, to his new wife and child.)

So, again, I ask: Which is bullshit? My marriage or Jonathan and Mira’s?

Am I the starry-eyed one?

Because while I thoroughly enjoyed the show, found it to be both profoundly written for and acted in, believe it will win a ton of Emmys next year, and sexted my husband after each sweltering, armpit-sniffing episode, it’s not real life.

Or is it?

Can a relationship truly exist after a months-long affair, endless emotionally abusive comments and mind games, a physical altercation, and, perhaps most poignant of all, a child caught smackdab in the middle? A partnership cannot possibly survive – let alone thrive – after that much pain and toxicity, right?

Perhaps it can.

In fact, perhaps it’s more common than you’d think.

According to the Institute for Family Studies (IFS), divorce has hit a 50-year low, with 58% of married Americans acknowledging that the pandemic has brought them closer to their spouse, not further apart, as early data initially suggested. They appreciate their partner more now and believe their commitment to marriage has deepened during lockdown. And while I’m sure some couples may have felt forced to stay together due to economic uncertainty, health concerns, children, and overall expense of the divorce process during the pandemic, Covid-19 seemed to have also provided a second chance for most. (I mean, you can’t have an affair if you can’t leave the house, right?)

But are divorces down because marriages are, too? Possibly. While many 2020 weddings were postponed due to Covid-19, marriage rates have dipped 8 points since 1990. And according to a 2019 Pew Research Center survey, more than half of Americans believe that while marriage is important to leading a fulfilling life, it’s not essential. What’s essential, according to the study (and Scenes from a Marriage, too, in my opinion), is career. Success. Power, I’m sure.

Okay, so, maybe that’s why Jonathan and Mira’s relationship works. Maybe their partnership is the rule, and mine is the exception. Because I’m just a writer/stay-at-home mom, and not—thank the high heavens—some high-powered tech VP. And because my husband is an attorney and not a sullen, furrowed, academic/stay-at-home dad who severely struggles with his abandoned practice as an Orthodox Jew, maybe I call bullshit on their marriage because mine is based on love, not sophistication.

Not perception.

But it’s a TV show, I know. 

(One that was believed to spike divorce rates in Sweden when it was originally released by Bergman in the ‘70s.) 

I get it. 

Watching it just irked me, I guess, making me feel a little less-than during the hot sex scenes and mature, honest conversations. Like, wait, does my marriage lack passion? Lack intensity and fervor? Are we on our phones too much? Do I talk too much about the baby? Does he really find my new body attractive, or is he just saying that? Should we be more cultured? More intellectual? More raw?

Could I forgive him if he left me for another person, as Jonathan does? Could I forgive him if he said hurtful, albeit honest, things out loud to me? And not just forgive, but love, adore, glorify him for the rest of my life? Could he to me?

Could we, would we, remember our vows?

To have and to hold?

For better, for worse?

For richer, for poorer?

In sickness and in health?

To love and to cherish?

Until death do us part?

Because if we can’t, then which partnership, which marriage, truly is bullshit?

steamy warning!

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