Retro Review / Personal Essay by Ren
Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice meditates on a philosophy I’ve come to terms with myself over the past few months: polyamory and the value of sincerity and honesty in relationships.
I don’t yet know if polyamory is an intrinsic sexuality in the same way that my bisexuality is. Perhaps it is for some, and perhaps in some way it’s been an unconscious drive in me all along as well – I can’t say for sure. I’ve been out as bisexual among friends for something like seven years now, but I had wrestled with those feelings and what they meant for most of my memory-making life. Polyamory, on the other hand, is a lifestyle that I’ve only recently come into, without ever really knowing how it could work for me or that it was something my partner or I were looking for. As such, we’ve been making a point of watching movies that navigate polyamory, and while some have been less than fantastic, I can confidently say Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice is one of my new favorite movies of all time.
The beautiful thing that BCTA highlights about polyamory is the necessity of radical honesty in relationships. The movie begins with the titular Bob and Carol attending a therapeutic New Age retreat. Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” plays over the opening credits as the retreat is introduced, which may initially feel like an ironic counterpoint, as the first scenes of therapy exercises are somewhat cringe-inducing. The couple has decided to attend simply out of a place of curiosity and nothing more. Bob is a filmmaker and is supposedly wanting to do research for an upcoming film, though he does share with the therapy group that he is open to whatever there is to find here – a beautiful poly origin story! What they quickly find is they have been wrestling with unhelpful and disingenuous communication in their marriage for some time: projecting feelings onto one another that weren’t there; making assumptions about the other person; having fear of the other person. They leave with invigorated spirits, ready to commit to healthier communication between the two of them and with all others they interact with. The “Hallelujah Chorus” turns out to have been a sincerely appropriate choice all along.
This newfound philosophy permeates every subsequent scene of the movie, which writer/director Paul Mazursky deliberately forces us to really sit with. Each individual scene is veryyyyyy stretched out (a la The Before Trilogy), allowing dialogue scenes to develop into full introspective odysseys as characters struggle to reconcile with worldviews they thought they knew as truth, such as: I am only allowed to be attracted to my wife/husband; infidelity is an unforgivable dealbreaker and anyone on the receiving end of it should leave their partner; sexuality is really only for men and not for women; I must feel jealous if my spouse makes love to (or wants to make love to) someone else because there is no other way I can possibly feel. In this way, we as the viewers really get to see these actors work through these feelings as they experience a full spectrum of emotions and slowly chip away at truths they realize don’t need to apply to them – or anyone else for that matter.
Bob and Carol are growing: they’re not fully reformed or flawless people after returning from the retreat, and they navigate clumsily through this journey together, deliberately expressing their feelings however uncomfortable, jealous, curious, angry, or simply thrilled they feel. This is a “comedy of manners,” after all, and the awkwardness of their initial fumblings is the source of much of the film’s comedy. What they eventually come to realize, however, is that they, like everyone, do naturally have attraction for people other than each other and yet this attraction does not in any way diminish their attraction or love for one another. Denying exploration of this attraction is a stance that is firmly ingrained in our society, and pushing against it comes with plenty of backlash, but ultimately choosing to live by whatever rules make sense for you and your partner is the real key to a healthy relationship, regardless of whether or not it fits into someone else’s worldview. Bob and Carol end up finding an even greater happiness as they unlearn their previous worldviews and embrace open and honest communication for one another. They also learn the notion of compersion, a poly-coined term which denotes the opposite of jealousy: the experience of feeling happy for your partner when they are happy with someone else. New paradigms aren’t built in a day, and Bob and Carol do have to talk through feelings of jealousy and confusion with one another, which I think makes this movie a very beautiful and honest portrayal of the polyamorous experience: nobody starts as a relationship expert who has transcended jealousy.
The parallel plot of the movie follows the also-titular Ted and Alice, who, upon learning about Bob and Carol’s evolved views on love and sex, find themselves rapidly unraveling at the seams. Alice, as we learn in a very drawn out scene with her therapist, is struggling with body- and sexual-shame that many women (including myself) have been socialized into feeling from a young age. She has a hard time as a grown woman even naming body parts appropriately and this discomfort manifests in a sex-drive that is greatly mismatched with her husband Ted’s. When she learns about Bob and Alice, she initially feels repulsed at the notion that anyone could reject body- and sex-shame to such a radical extent as to not only be wildly into their partner sexually, but also be happy for their partner making love to someone else. I loved how the movie allows its characters to speak to each other with such a high degree of sexual frankness, highlighting difficulties that are so rarely talked about for women and couples, and how honestly challenging it can be to override the shameful feelings that are so presently reinforced by our culture. Even writing this I find myself hesitant to, for example, write under my real name, or talk more openly about the sexual encounters of the movie out of fear that this review could be deemed too sexual by some readers.
The juxtaposition of these two couples seems to suggest a value judgement on the part of Mazursky: many monogamous couples attempt to hide or bury feelings and thoughts that they find guilt-inducing or unspeakable, while poly couples find strength in dealing with these taboo thoughts and feelings head on. The four finally recognize by the end of the film that denying obvious parts of our feelings and love for others is useless, and they allow unspoken feelings to be laid out fully on the table…or should I say the bed? ;)
- Spoiler warning for the next paragraph! -
Many viewers do take issue with the peculiar ending of the film, and it’s certainly worth addressing. As a movie that doesn’t shy away from talking about sex and even showing a significant amount of nudity, you’d think it would be bold enough to give us the sex scene that is teased throughout the movie between the titular four. They do begin with a playful start – laying together, softly kissing and touching, but then almost as soon as they truly begin, the four promptly zip themselves back up and leave the bed before the full-blown (and heavily marketed) “orgy” actually transpires. Poly viewers especially might feel like this anti-climax, so to speak, ultimately means the movie is shrugging at us and saying: “yeah, you probably shouldn’t bang your friends and you don’t really need to be poly after all.” (I’ll also admit that I absolutely would not have hated to see more!!) However, this peculiar transition is followed by what is obviously a heavily symbolic final scene, as the characters walk into a crowd of strangers, all of which are looking deeply and lovingly into one another’s eyes as the song “What the World Needs Now is Love” plays. This scene is a callback to a scene at the retreat at the beginning of the film, when attendees were asked to make extended, silent eye contact with one another, which feels deeply uncomfortable for all involved – including the audience, as Marzusky has the actors look directly into the camera for uncomfortably long takes. When the same exercise is presented symbolically at the ending, however, the gaze of the crowd feels like a warm embrace, bringing the arc of the film (and therefore its message) full circle: we need to really see each other and seek genuine connection, whether platonic or more, with whoever we feel a connection with. All this is to say that I don’t think that we’re supposed to see the characters’ supposedly botched foursome as literal; rather, I think you as the viewer are supposed to fill in the blanks on how their evening finished. Could it have been sexier? I’m almost always inclined to say yes with any movie I watch! But I believe they got their happy ending, even if it’s not shown to us (and it may not have been allowed to have been in 1969, when X-ratings were much more common and prohibitive). And I think that the movie does ultimately land on the side of polyamory = great, which is maybe even more of a radical statement now than it was in 1969. As Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice disperse into a crowd of strangers, the film seems to be suggesting that if their worldview was brought into the broader world, huge swaths of the population would find themselves happier and more full of love.
A side note also relevant here: people in the polyamorous community have different ways of navigating their many relationships. Some poly people enjoy keeping their partners compartmentalized and separate from one another – this lifestyle is known as parallel polyamory or parallel relationships, because they never intersect. As Bob and Carol begin their polyamorous journey, they seem to feel this is most appropriate for them: “Sure, you can have your other lover, just keep them far away from me!” They also find themselves of the mindset that lovers outside of their marriage should be strictly reserved for no-strings-attached fun and involve no emotional attachment. As the movie progresses and boundaries are put to the test, however, they both find that meeting other partners and getting to know them can actually ease feelings of tension and jealousy rather than heightening them, and can even lead to feelings of compersion for your partner as you get to know the person who makes them happy. This style is known at kitchen table polyamory: “Sure! I’d love to meet the guy that’s screwing my wife, she’s a hottie! Let’s have him over for a beer!” Finally, Bob and Carol bring down the last wall as they realize that having genuine feelings for another lover (or longtime friend turned lover) doesn’t diminish the love you have for your primary partner. I’m not sure how intentional this was on the part of Mazursky to have these specific poly arrangements tried on and adjusted throughout the course of the movie, but it’s definitely in there.
My partner and I are still very new to polyamory, so I can’t talk as if I’m an expert on the subject. We entered into this experience cautious but curious, much like Bob and Carol, and have come out maybe happier than we’ve ever been before. Not because we were so desperate to be with other people – polyamory is not about filling a void or feeling as though your partner is not enough for you. As stated beautifully in by the tragically deceitful protagonist of Agnes Varda’s Le Bonheur, “Happiness adds to happiness” – having more love in your life doesn’t subtract but only increases the love you have to give. In this new chapter of our lives, we’ve really stepped up to the challenge of naming our thoughts and feelings, sitting with and exploring these feelings, and finding even greater joy for each other as we have met and become involved with an incredible poly community. Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice captures this beautiful experience of growth so precisely through it’s screenplay and brilliant performances, and I found it very moving.