'80s comedy-drama has mature themes, profanity.

The marriage between a columnist and his wife degrades when she discovers his infidelity. Nora Ephron makes me hate white people. These two privileges, upper-class, yuppie white people smack of the kind of white sense of entitlement that would make me turn into Malcolm X. Thinking about Ephron's films, I can't remember a single non-white character who isn't carrying a tray or, as is the case in this film, saying, "Meesus Forman" in a caricature of a Hispanic maid; her main complaint about Rachel nemesis in the film is that she's "messy," as though the only way this woman can evaluate one's character is through her work. Now, I suppose you're saying that since race isn't a concern for Ephron, it's unfair to bring it up, or you're saying that Woody Allen has only one African American character in his entire oeuvre (Cookie from Deconstructing Harry) who merely serves to set up a racist joke. It's true that Ephron isn't writing about race, but it's nonetheless inappropriate to have the only depiction of nonwhites in subservient roles; if race isn't one of Ephron's concerns, then don't include any nonwhites in any role; have a white maid. Eliding nonwhites seems less offensive to me than confining nonwhites. And I admit one of Woody Allen's weaknesses is his single-color pallet, but in his entire film collection, there is only one instance where a nonwhite is confined to a subservient role, and this a non-speaking maid in Hannah and Her Sisters. As racist depictions go, Allen's not good, but Ephron is horrid. The detestable depiction of race in Heartburn isn't the only thing that bothered me about the film. The conflict literally doesn't start until the film is forty-seven minutes old. For an eternity, we have to watch these yuppies be unpardonably happy with their courtship, their child, and their seemingly insouciant ability to get over their fears of marriage and commitment - serious fears that are glossed over and defeated with some simple spooning. It's so boring in a way that only the overly saccharine Ephron can bore one. The half-star bonus point is for Jack Nicholson who has some good moments and for one scene with a jewelry salesman that was well-written. Overall, after Julie and Julia and Bewitched, one would think that I'd learn my lesson.

I think I would rather cut my ear off than watch this movie ever again. While technically a good film, it has been a long time since I loathed two characters in a movie so much. The plot is basically smug, whingey, whiney 30 something (who dresses more like 40 something. Sooo frumpy all the way through this) marries womaniser, thinking of course that she is different and can change him. Oddly enough, he is soon cheating again (what a shocker). I found Meryl Streep's Rachel so unpleasant I really felt very little sympathy for her. Ditto Jack Nicholson's Mark - I don't think he was even meant to be likeable. It was just little things like her complete lack of manners anytime she was being served in a shop (right down to final scene with obnoxious child who looks like a female Chucky. Yes, that's just what I would hope to be stuck next to on a plane). Just the most self observed character ever. And this is supposedly a true story. Heaven forbid.