Of all the above, one wants to grasp each one individually, but Levinson does not give such an opportunity and races forward, creating a quite realistic one-and-a-half-hour fight. Western critics have accused the film of being vague in its subject matter and scrappy. Well, apparently, they've never had a fight with someone they love and want to kill at the same time.
It turns out that the snowball started small — Malcolm didn't thank dear Marie in his speech, from whom the heroine of his film was partly written off. That's where it all starts — an unpleasant little thing followed by occasional rudeness. But for the girl, it's not a trifle, but a revealing attitude of the director toward her, while he doesn't even notice his overly offensive rudeness. One second we think Marie is a crazy egomaniac trying to see herself in everything. In a moment Malcolm, munching on that very same pasta, turns into an "emotional terrorist" and screams through the house about the girl's mental problems.
Both characters seem to lose their minds, and the viewer becomes an unwitting witness to their mutual destruction. Once Marie evokes pity with her monologue about her hard life in the shadow of the narcissistic director, the focus shifts to Malcolm, who, through tears, tries to explain his immense love. A minute passes, and he selfishly returns to find out why Marie called him mediocre — because she wanted to hurt him or really thinks so.