If for no other reason than its ability to do what Steven Spielberg could not, namely elicit a quiet, non hambone performance from Judd Hirsch, Kelly Reichardt's latest film should be commended. But there are other pleasures to be had in this tale of a frustrated artist in boho Portland, Oregon (by the way, Is there a non boho part of that city?), chief among them Michelle Williams' interpretation of the main character. I think we've all known a person like Lizzy, talented in their field but not talented enough to allay self doubt and envy of greater talents.(Think a kinder, gentler Llewyn Davis). It takes awhile for Lizzy's virtues to emerge but under Reichardt's sensitive direction and aided by her and co writer Jon Raymond's perceptive screenplay, Williams effectively peels away Lizzy's layers and lets you see the caring, sensitive person beneath the depressed, resentful person, so that by film's end we feel we know this good if extremely flawed individual. Wonderful character study which, again, leads me to muse on why this enormously gifted actor has yet to win an Oscar. Strongly supporting Williams are a number of actors with whom I was not familiar, especially Hong Chau as Lizzie's rival and bete noir, Maryann Plunkett as her checked out mom and John Magaro as her deranged, paranoid brother. Also worthy of mention is cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt who, like Williams, often works with Reichardt and whose camera beautifully but unobtrusively immerses us in the Rose City.
The film's main drawback is obvious and needn't be dwelt upon unduly. Reichardt's pacing, which will never be confused with that of Hawks or Bigelow, is at its most deliberate (read slow as hell) in this film. I can understand and sympathize with my IMDB colleagues annoyance with it. But if you can somehow adjust yourself to the director's contemplative, subdued rhythm you will be rewarded in the end, especially in the climactic scene at Lizzy's show where the tension, long held back, is palpable. More problematic for me than the slowness, actually, is the director's use of the too symbolic bird which, like most symbols in film and literature, I found both obvious and heavy handed.
Bottom line: Not as good as "Wendy And Lucy" or "Meeks Cutoff" (or even "Old Joy", for that matter) but well worth your time. Give it a B.
The film's main drawback is obvious and needn't be dwelt upon unduly. Reichardt's pacing, which will never be confused with that of Hawks or Bigelow, is at its most deliberate (read slow as hell) in this film. I can understand and sympathize with my IMDB colleagues annoyance with it. But if you can somehow adjust yourself to the director's contemplative, subdued rhythm you will be rewarded in the end, especially in the climactic scene at Lizzy's show where the tension, long held back, is palpable. More problematic for me than the slowness, actually, is the director's use of the too symbolic bird which, like most symbols in film and literature, I found both obvious and heavy handed.
Bottom line: Not as good as "Wendy And Lucy" or "Meeks Cutoff" (or even "Old Joy", for that matter) but well worth your time. Give it a B.