The unromantic melodrama “Diary of a Mad Housewife,” from 1970—the last of six films on which the screenwriter Eleanor Perry and the director Frank Perry collaborated before their divorce—is a horror story about the agonies that a woman endures at the hands of men, in marriage and adultery alike. (It's streaming on the Criterion Channel.) The thirtysomething Manhattan couple Tina Balser (Carrie Snodgress) and her husband, Jonathan (Richard Benjamin), live in comfort; he’s a corporate lawyer, and she stays home to raise their two daughters. But Jonathan, a social climber desperately concerned with appearances, is a hypercritical fussbudget and a domestic martinet, and Tina seeks solace in an affair with a brashly seductive novelist (Frank Langella) who turns out to be an egocentric misogynist. Snodgress, brisk and flinty, thoughtful and impulsive, endows Tina with the energy and the wiles of hunted prey. The Perrys’ pugnacious vision of ambient emotional brutality is also diagnostic: sordid scenes at cocktail parties and fancy dinners lay bare unchallenged social and professional norms that suddenly loom before Tina like nightmares. Her awakening is the struggle of the times.
— Richard Brody"diary" - Google News
October 01, 2021 at 05:01PM
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Diary Of A Mad Housewife - The New Yorker
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