Director	Noah Baumbach
Length	81 mins
Certificate	15
Rating	Film making: 4  Personal enjoyment: 4

Reportedly highly autobiographical, Noah Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale charts the messy divorce of two New York intellectuals and - more to the point - the effect it has on the couple’s two adolescent sons. As fingers are pointed, allegiances formed and battle lines drawn, 12-year-old Frank and 15-year-old Walt struggle to deal with the twin evils of burgeoning adulthood and joint custody.

Baumbach has recently been brought to the attention of American independent cinema fans everywhere as Wes Anderson’s new writing partner on The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2005) and the forthcoming The Fantastic Mr Fox. Squid, his modest magnum opus, both bears the unmistakeable marks of Anderson in its themes, and proves simultaneously to be the eccentric auteur’s antithesis in tone and execution. The result is that we are treated to the curious and pleasant sensation of experiencing what it would be like to watch The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) if it were played not as highly stylised comedy, but instead as harsh, realist drama.

Okay, so this isn’t exactly Nil by Mouth (1999), but the image this film paints of a family falling apart is certainly more dedicated to truthfully showing the ugly, weak side of human nature than the great majority of the quirky Hollywood independents around at the moment. More of a kind with Kenneth Lonergan’s underrated You Can Count on Me (2000) - which also starred the wonderful Laura Linney - Baumbach has sculpted a believable, and occasionally squirmingly painful, tribute to his own teenage years.

That’s not at all to say that there isn’t a great deal of fun to be had here too. Whether at its moments of excruciatingly well-observed embarrassment, or the merciless satirical sideswipes at intellectual posturing, the film always effortlessly brings an unforced and humanistic comedy to bear. As well as this there are also the performances: Linney is predictably superb as the family’s put-upon matriarch, and Jesse Eisenberg and Owen Kline as the bewildered brothers prove themselves atypically excellent child actors. The ultimate joy though is Jeff Daniels: so often relegated to supporting roles (or starring roles in films that don’t deserve him), he is finally here given the chance to get his teeth into a truly complex and mature character. Sporting a highly impressive beard and a too-youthful wardrobe, his Bernard is the epitome of angry academic disillusionment, and he plays his part with all the pathos and pathetic energy that such a figure requires.

There are a few lapses in the otherwise excellent film. Though Linney does manage to create a three dimensional character out of the comparatively little she is given to work with, this is undoubtedly the boys' movie and focusses far more on the crisis of its men than its central female figure. Dramatically the movie also loses some of its well-earned momentum towards its conclusion (though it redeems itself wonderfully with an enigmatic yet succinct final image).

Yet such objections are ultimately little more than the kind of quibbles you manage to talk yourself out of after watching a film you greatly appreciate again and again, having been compelled to buy it on DVD. The Squid and the Whale is a thoughtful, refreshing take on the family drama that leaves you anticipating Baumbach's next move.