The bulk of Friends with Money takes place between two dinner scenes, in which four mostly well-to-do women gather for food and conversation with each other and the men in their lives, and then spend the drive home gossiping about each other with their partners. As you go home from this movie, you may find yourself itching to join in; the characters have an engaging, if not always appealing, familiarity—and the situations in which they find themselves are so amusing, if occasionally aggravating—that you may have an opinion or two of your own on the state of their lives and what they ought to do with themselves.
It’s something of an inside joke that the one friend in this movie who isn’t flush with money is played by Jennifer Aniston, the former million-dollars-an-episode Friends co-star. She plays Olivia, a former high school teacher who quit her job when the children began giving her quarters; she now works as a maid and fills her time smoking pot, “borrowing” face cream and vibrators from her clients, collecting free samples of cosmetics from department stores, and phone-stalking a married man with whom she once had a brief affair.
Olivia’s friends, all of whom are pretty wealthy, worry about her, but they’re not sure how to help. Should they give her some money, to bring her up to their level? No, that would be awkward. Should they support her chosen line of work, and hire her to clean their homes? No, that would be even worse. And what about the fact that Olivia isn’t married? One of Olivia’s friends hooks her up with a personal trainer (Scott Caan), even though he is already involved with a married woman, apparently because any relationship for Olivia is better than no relationship at all; his other relationship is regarded not as one of several obvious signs of his nakedly caddish ways, but as a sign that he is still technically “available.”
But are marriage and wealth everything they’re cracked up to be? Olivia’s friends, it turns out, have problems of their own, too. Christine (Catherine Keener) and David (Jason Isaacs) are Hollywood screenwriters who argue about the dialogue in their scripts and eventually argue about the dialogue, or lack thereof, in their home; the accident-prone Christine complains that David never asks how she’s feeling, and he can’t see why she doesn’t just tell him what she’s feeling if she really thinks he ought to know. They have hired a construction crew to add a second floor to their house, but eventually it comes to seem like a poor distraction from their marital woes, or even a malignant manifestation thereof.
Then there is Jane (Frances McDormand), a sharp-tongued clothing designer who often goes ballistic over minor annoyances—slow waiters, people cutting in line—but seems to have given up on life itself. “It’s like we’re just waiting to die,” she says, at one point; and at another, she complains that there is no more wonder left for people her age. She is married to Aaron (Simon McBurney), whose soft English manner and sensitive demeanor lead everyone around him—friend, stranger, male, female—to assume he’s gay, which lends a certain humorous tension to the scenes in which he makes a new male friend. Is this why Jane is so upset? Or would that be too convenient and stereotypical an explanation?
Finally, there is Franny (Joan Cusack), whose marriage to Matt (Greg Germann) seems to be okay, though this may reflect complacent contentment as much as true happiness. Of all of Olivia’s friends, it is Franny who expresses the most interest in helping, or meddling, in her affairs; it is she who arranges the date with the personal trainer. But Franny’s efforts are not always welcome, possibly because they may be motivated less by genuine concern than by guilt at how good her life is. It is never really clarified just how all these women came to know each other, but it seems Franny and Olivia have been friends for a long time, and Franny was wealthy before she married Matt; so Olivia can’t quite understand when Franny says she would have to consult Matt before lending her any of that money.
Peppering the script with interesting asides and bits of back-story, writer-director Nicole Holofcener (Lovely & Amazing) doesn’t spell out the story so much as tease us into the lives of her characters. I like the way Jane happens to see someone at a restaurant wearing one of her dresses, and then sees that person accidentally spill something on it. I also like the scene where Franny and Matt discuss how they would react if their son were gay. “I just wouldn’t want him to have any pain,” says Matt. “Everyone has pain,” replies Franny, sounding only slightly less banal. Caught between these two clichés, Matt fumbles for a moment and says he wouldn’t want their son to have any “extra gay-pain.”
It is also interesting to see how different viewers can interpret the same set of characters, just as the characters have different interpretations of each other. After the screening I attended, a secular colleague remarked that a certain relationship was left “unresolved,” as though this particular friendship would be incomplete without a sexual component; but it seemed to me that, on this point, the film had had no deeper aim than to play on our expectations (“prejudices” isn’t quite the right word), so there was nothing left to resolve.
These characters have a few problems, as at least some of them would be the first to admit, but the film somehow feels like a light comedy—possibly due to the music, possibly because the story takes a glib left turn or two, especially near the end. If Mike Leigh had made this film, you just know every throwaway line would be drawing on a life of hopes achieved and dreams dashed, but Holofcener seems to float more on the surface. The end result is fun, but ultimately forgettable. These characters are worth a visit, but don’t be surprised if they don’t stay with you for very long once you’ve gone home.
Talk About It
Discussion starters- How does money affect relationships? If you had lots of money and your friend had little, what would you do? Should you do anything? What if you were poor and your friend had lots of money?
- Do you think Franny really wants to help Olivia, or does Franny perhaps want to think of herself as helpful? Why do you think she sets Olivia up on a blind date with the personal trainer, even though he is already in a relationship with a married woman? What does this say about how she sees relationships in general, or Olivia in particular?
- Christine and David argue about the nature of communication in their marriage. Do you think either of them has the better point? How would you resolve their argument?
- Why do so many people assume Aaron is gay? What assumptions have you made about people because of their outward appearances and mannerisms? Do you think the film supports the idea that Aaron really is gay? Why or why not? Is there a side to Aaron that nobody sees except for Jane, his wife? If so, what is that?
The Family Corner
For parents to considerFriends with Money is rated R for language, some sexual content—including one scene of implied sex, though there’s no nudity—and brief drug use, of the marijuana variety.
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Copyright © 2006 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.
What Other Critics Are Saying
compiled by Jeffrey Overstreetfrom Film Forum, 04/20/06A few years ago, writer-director Nicole Holofcener made an impressive debut with Lovely & Amazing, giving us an unusually intimate look into the minds and hearts of three complex women. The film earned praise for its smart script, and for the lead performances by Catherine Keener, Emily Mortimer, and Brenda Blethyn.
Holofcener’s new film, Friends with Money, is about women and their perspectives on money and happiness. It stars Jennifer Aniston as a monetarily challenged young woman who has three married friends—played by Frances McDormand, Catherine Keener and Joan Cusack—all of whom enjoy some level of financial success.
Friends with Money is winning quite a few friends among mainstream critics.
from Film Forum, 04/27/06Christa Banister (Crosswalk) writes, “Presumably, what the audience is supposed to learn as a result of all these conversations we eavesdrop on at the dinner table and as the girls gossip with their significant others later on, is that middle-aged life has its challenges—with or without money. Wow, that’s surprising; now did it really take 88 minutes to make that point? Ultimately, a better conclusion would’ve been the very non-Hollywood theme that a selfish perspective on life can’t help but lead to emptiness and internal conflict.”
