We Don’t Deserve Toni Collette

The mark of a good actor rests in their ability to make an audience believe them. Do you buy that this woman actually regrets murdering her husband? Great; now the story can move on. But there are a certain subset of actors who are so talented, so incredible they extend past solely making us believe their characters. They embody their characters, using every eyebrow arc and hand placement to communicate something different and important about this world. Toni Collette stands on that lofty level of great actors, and we really need to talk about her more.

As undeniably great as Collette is, the premise of her latest series isn’t groundbreaking. Created by Nick Payne, Wanderlust follows an older, out-of-sync couple desperate to reignite their love life. After both Joy (Collette) and Alan (Steven Mackintosh) cheat on each other, they decide to try something they’ve never considered before — an open marriage. The remainder of the series follows the complicated world of dating while married and trying to explain this atypical setup to friends, family members, and potential romantic partners.

Filled with steamy scenes, the British series is always entertaining if not a bit predictable. But what elevates Wanderlust from good to lovely TV is Collette and her alternatively haunting and haunted face.

The actress has always had an incredibly expressive face that can shift between huge emotions at a moment’s notice. Showtime’s critically-acclaimed series about mental illness, The United States of Tara, capitalized on this particular talent beautifully. Tara, who suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder, would often flit between being enraged then happy then annoyed within seconds as Collette embodied the various ever-changing moods of her alter egos.

Conversely Wanderlust opts for a more subtle approach though it still stands as another testament to Collette’s all-powerful mastery over authentic emotions. Joy is supposed to be an easy-to-read character. She preaches openness as a sex therapist, and she children can often call her out on what she’s thinking before she actually says it. But instead of using this built-in narrative moments to coast, Collette leans into her role completely, somehow delivering a character who is consistently readable though you can tell she desperately doesn’t want to be.

Joy’s dueling openness and closure appear most prominently in Wanderlust‘s biggest moments. In the first episode after learning about Alan’s infidelity, you can practically see her mind racing as she processes what this may mean for their marriage. When she turns to her husband and asks him if he wants to sleep with his colleague again, you already know the answer she’s hoping for before she says a word. Likewise one episode later her boredom over a dull date is so apparent, you can practically feel her annoyance pouring off of the screen. It’s complex balance and one that Collette masters, infusing this romantic drama with new life.

Ever since Muriel’s Wedding was released in 1994, the actress has been pulling at our heart strings, embodying the hassled but hopeful everywoman. But now almost 25 years later, Collette is still continuing to prove she’s the best expression actor of our time. Never change, Collette. We need your bracing brand of emotional honesty now more than ever.

Watch Wanderlust on Netflix