Une femme libre

"Erica" (Jill Clayburgh) is a happily married woman who lives in an upscale apartment in Manhattan with her husband "Martin" (Michael Murphy) and their teenage daughter "Patti" (Lisa Lucas). Then one day Martin discloses that he has been seeing another woman for over a year and wants a divorce. Needless to say, Erica is devastated by this news and from that point on this film showcases the various emotions she experiences along with the manner in which she adapts to her new life on her own. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this was a deep romantic-drama which benefited from an excellent performance on the part of Jill Clayburgh. On the other hand, however, there were also several scenes which were rather slow and the movie itself ran on a bit too long as well. Be that as it may, although this film is clearly geared to a female audience in general, it was still entertaining in its own right and I have rated it accordingly.

Briefly, this is one of the few American films I have seen that is remotely a realistic depiction of how basically intelligent, decent, middle-class adults behave in a long-term relationship (in this case a marriage of sixteen years) when they break up. I almost felt as though I were watching a reality show from that era. This is how people behave, without much heroism or great insight into themselves or others; often with a "cluelessness" that defines our humanity more tellingly than our pride would like to hear. (An aside to the previous commenter: I have seen this sort of thing, close-up and personal, and this is pretty much how people act: it reminded me very much of how a couple with whom I was very close broke up, and the aftermath, in the decade before this film was made. And the man had been having an affair for several years before it happened, not just one: the woman had not a clue.) My only complaint is that the story ends far too soon and far too happily. But it is an American film (sigh!), so one most not expect too much: we just "cannot bear very much reality"!

Moving tale of a middle-class Manhattan housewife's struggle for independence after her husband leaves her for another woman.

The wonderful Paul Mazursky created this 1978 landmark slaute to women's liberation and the film wipes the floor with the messy urban horror of 1977's Looking for Mr. Goodbar: Goodbar's makers ultimately had no respect for their female protagonist but Mazursky scores in his depiction of female self-respect and love.

Jill Clayburg's miraculous performance as Erica was snubbed at the Academy Awards in favor of Jane Fonda's more 'tolerable' female in Coming Home but if you look closely you'll see there's no comparison and Clayburg hits all the right notes while displaying Erica's overwhelmingly complex feelings. Perhaps Erica's unique strength was too much for many male Academy members so they rewarded the typical moony-eyed housewife character instead. Regardless of that, Clayburg makes a brilliant lead and her lonely journey through New York-chic (art exhibits, bars, therapists, narcisstic artists) makes for great viewing. (The very brief encounters Erica has with a handsome blonde man at the coatcheck before and after she's been hit with the news from her husband are a nice touch!) There's a rare level of intimacy between the actors in all of the scenes but especially the girl group talks: the words sound surprisingly like they belong to the actors and Mazursky's ear for dialogue is sharp and refreshingly to-the-point.

Michael Murphy as the wayward husband, Alan Bates as the new love interest, and Cliff Gorman -whom I last saw as the bitchy, effeminate in The Boys in the Band!- as a male chauvinist provide exceptional support as the men in Erica's life. The only thing that marres the beauty of this film is its awful, piercingly shrill, '70's saxophone musical score.

An Unmarried Woman was one of the best films from the late 70s/early 80s. It so completely captures a time and a place. It is a personal, perceptive story of a woman's marriage which crumbles to her total surprise. It ends up being a sort of comic--Americanized version (or more specifically New York version) of

"Scenes from a Marriage". Throughout the film we are introduced to one terrific personality after another--each distinctively drawn. From her affluent circle of friends, to the quirky, genuinely intriguing artistic types of the downtown art scene (Soho before it became SO commercial), to the assorted people she

meets on her journey of coping and understanding such as her therapist

(portrayed by the great psychologist and author, Penelope Russianoff, who was a fixture on New York's Upper Westside for years), we are treated to a wealth of fascinating characters. The movie resonates with warmth and understanding.

Jill Clayburgh's Erika is a contemporary tragic/comic heroine. She's beautiful and classy and funny and her emotions--for anyone who has gone through

divorce or separation or simply difficult marital situations--are absolutely dead- on accurate. What is very interesting some 25 years after the movie debuted is that it has not aged one single bit--the characters remain delightful, the

emotions as real as ever, and the New York milieu as varied and fascinating as it still is today (and probably always has been.) A great, entertaining, and endearing film!

Didn't anyone else notice that when Martin was crying there were no tears? How incredibly self-serving!

I agree with the poster that said Jill Clayburgh doesn't give much. Everything is said in a matter-of-fact fashion with very little emotion. I love the scene where she is getting dressed after having had sex with Alan Bates (yummy in this movie, BTW), she acts as though she just had a pedicure or something.

I watched the chopped up WE channel version, so I might have missed something, but it was all very emotionless.

I did think it was really dated. How could it not be?