If money can’t buy happiness, then Friends With Money are a truly sad bunch. Writer-director Nicole Holofcener’s dark comedy looks at marriage and wealth, and the lack thereof of both, through the lives of four best friends. Frannie, Christine and Jane, played by Joan Cusack, Catherine Keener and Frances McDormand respectively, are the three said title characters; with Jennifer Aniston as the unmarried and not-rich (but not dirt poor either) protagonist Olivia.

At the start, Olivia is set up to be the most important character. She is introduced in extreme close-ups, her face hidden, doing house-cleaning of a home, which is quickly revealed to be someone else's and that she is a maid by profession. This sequence is cross-cut with the introduction of her three married friends, each with her husband and kid(s), all seemingly happy. Christine and David (Jason Issacs) are shopping together for a second-story addition to their house, Frannie and Matt (Greg Germann) are attending to their kids, and Jane and Aaron (Simon McBurney) are getting ready for a dinner date. We know a little more about the husbands during the drive-home sequences. The effeminate but loving (and lovable) Aaron is often mistaken for being homosexual. David’s nonchalant demeanor foreshadows a major crack to his and Christine’s marriage when he is nonchalant in situations where he ought to be showing concern. Olivia, as it turns out, was a schoolteacher before giving it up to be a house-cleaner. She does not sustain a substantial income, relationship or direction in life as well as her more settled and more well-to-do friends.

Although Olivia is the most important character, her Friends With Money have the significant drama. Frannie, the wealthiest and the epitome of picture-perfect ‘happily married family’, tries to hook Olivia up with her personal trainer Mike (Scott Caan). The director tries to dispel Frannie’s image by using wealth as an impeding element in her relations with her friends, especially Olivia, to give reason for concern or doubt about her own life (where there is none). Jane’s dealing with mid-life crisis is manifested in not washing her hair, and having confrontational and often public meltdowns. In one such situation, she unsuccessfully (but comically) squabbles with a couple for allegedly cutting in front of her at an Old Navy store. The result is a broken nose after banging herself (hard) against a glass wall.

As a couple, Christine and David are the polar opposite of Frannie and Matt. Both are scriptwriters working in the same office from home. (Jane and Aaron also share the same occupation – in their case, they are clothing designer – but the similarities with Christine and David ends there.) Their frequent exchanges of ideas have more often than not become frequent exchanges of banters. Unlike the marital unions of her two friends, Christine and David are emotionally mismatched from the start – especially when David can turn off his emotional faculty as easy as flipping a lightswitch, and Christine could not – but their personal and professional lives become too intertwined to the point of snapping off. When it turns out to be more trouble than anticipated in building a second story to their house, the final straw is drawn.

Not surprisingly, Holofcener’s commentary slants towards the single life. Olivia has more fun than her married friends. Mike tags along on her job to snoop into the refrigerator and drawers, has Olivia play housemaid – complete with costume – and makes out with her on the master’s bed. In the end, she is the only one that finds happiness, not only because she found the right man but also because she is neither ‘trapped’ nor hurt (in the case of Christine) by the same relationship as her friends are. Money does not buy happiness. Marriage does not guarantee it either.

However, the well-written and well-narrated screenplay takes greater precedence over the director's social comments. Through effective camera work and cross-cutting, she accomplishes several things: contrast between the dramas of the four women, maintain the connecting themes between them, keep the pacing tight and consistent, while at the same time tell an intriguing and objective story. Dialogue, as trivial as they sound, plays a big part as pivot points to cut to another character’s scene. If the characters in the preceding scene are not talking about the characters in the succeeding scene, it is vice versa to maintain the link. There is not a sequence or shot that is without purpose. Aaron’s own scenes – the only husband with this privilege – where he is the object (by other men) of prospective friendship, is initially a play on the “he’s so gay” angle. It not only serves to dispel his false ‘homosexual’ impression, but also to lead into the cause of Jane’s meltdowns after she nearly has one in a double date with Aaron’s new friend and his wife.

All the cast are great. Aniston is a sufficient lead as Olivia, who has the least amount of dramatic action and is often overshadowed by the supporting players. Keener’s emotionally-charged performance (of whose marriage is in the process of falling apart) is the strongest. McDormand’s meltdowns are hilarious. Cusack is wonderfully restrained and has a moment where she cuts loose some angry feelings. McBurney is adorably effeminate (must be the accent!). Bob Stephenson, is incredibly good convincing as Marty, the guy Olivia ends up with. His ‘lazy slob’ mold works so well into the final twist to his character. It is also nice to see Issacs in a role where he is not a villain and still be good.

Friends With Money is not a difficult movie to like. Great acting, infectious humor, smart dialogue, substantial story, and concise running time – at nearly 88 minutes – make it an enjoyable watch.