NYFF Review: Wendy and Lucy

Much like her last film, Old Joy, Kelly Reichardt's Wendy and Lucy is another slice of minimalist indie-Americana that has been receiving rave reviews since its debut at Cannes, particularly for Michelle Williams' stirring lead performance. That I wasn't completely bowled over by the film has left me with an intangible sense of disquiet.

Admired critics and friends alike have been praising it to death, some going so far as to consider it the best American film of the year. While there's certainly much to admire about the film, I can't help but cling to the notion that there's something missing, and that it (at times) employs conventional tactics that weaken the work. 

Though Reichardt has stated that the film addresses the current economic crisis -- wherein millions of Americans are on the brink of unemployment and/or homelessness -- there's a certain timelessness to the story, and it could have easily been set in just about any point over the last hundred or so years. Wendy (Michelle Williams) and her faithful dog Lucy are traveling from Indiana to Alaska, where there's promise of work in a fish cannery. With just over $500 to her name, an unexpected breakdown of her Honda not only threatens her chances of making it to Palin country, but sets in motion a series of events that result in Lucy's disappearance.

From what little we learn about Wendy, Lucy appears to be her lone emotional companion, and the strength of her love is evinced early on in a scene where Lucy wanders off to a group of goth-hobos in the woods. Wendy appears to care less for her own safety than she does about whether or not they're planning on returning her dog. Wendy's willingness to place Lucy's needs over her own sets up their relationship as more mother and child than merely pet/owner, which is why I find the series of events that follows to be somewhat problematic. (Possible spoilers ahead.)

Caught shoplifting by a (natch) cross-wearing overly-sanctimonious teen employee results in Wendy being carted off by police, with Lucy left behind at the supermarket. Normally I roll my eyes at critics who get hung up on minor plot details, yet given that the arrest is what leads to Lucy's disappearance (and sets the rest of the film in motion), there's an implausibility to the scene that smacks of lazy screenwriting, especially considering the great efforts Reichardt made to establish the dynamic of their relationship. I agree that it sounds petty, yet it's inconsistent with her character, and even a bit nonsensical given the overall goodheartedness of the locals. (I won't get into details for those who haven't seen it.)

Wendy's quest to locate Lucy reveals just how deep the loss is, and Williams handles the growing desperation with remarkable subtlety. There are no "big moments" in her performance, and the accolades being heaped upon her are deserved. The problem once again is the screenplay, which increasingly begins to resemble something right out of McKee. The film's final third becomes overly formulaic; Wendy's actions feel less organic, as if dictated not by character, but by a need for script tidiness (replete with heart-tugging moments.) Yes, it's moving, but at the same time a tad forced and oddly unsatisfactory.

Like Ballast, Wendy and Lucy has a distinct Dardenne-esque vibe, and it contains both the bleak aesthetics and ardent humanism the Belgian brothers are famous for. (More than once I was reminded of Rosetta.) Unfortunately the similarities end there, and Wendy and Lucy, like Lance Hammer's overly-praised debut, is lacking in substantive content. At the same time, its all-too-conventional structure relies more on pathos than poignance -- it's more Old Yeller than Umberto D. Still, Reichardt's strong direction combined with Williams' pitch-perfect performance nearly overshadows its faults, which makes it that much more frustrating. Don't miss it.

Wendy and Lucy screens on Saturday 27 September at 9:30, and again on Sunday 28 September at 3:15. Tickets can be purchased here.

Comments

[Fernando]

Hey, hey, now, don't insult 'Old Yeller.' I once met the widow of Fred Gipson (author of the book) when she came to a garage sale I was having. I know that incident has nothing to do with the quality of the movie in any way, but I still feel a deep connection to 'Old Yeller' because of it.

[Filmbrain]

Fernando --

I didn't mean to knock Old Yeller. I loved it as a kid, and, yes, I cried. Years later I cried at Umberto D as well. They obviously share a similar theme, yet their approach couldn't be any more different.

[tully]

I very much appreciate this review, Andrew, though I think the Dardennes comparison is wayyyyyy off the mark. Even Rosetta, which this most superficially resembles. I don't see that anywhere in this particular film (other than on paper). But I feel like you expressed a reaction to Ms. Reichardt's work that a lot of people feel. I was talking to my lady friend about this and how we're realizing how our tastes are in the extreme minority. In trying to break it down as simply as possible, I came up with this:

Just when I start thinking, "Okay, now we're getting somewhere!' is when about 95% of the audience starts thinking, "Okay, now we're really not going anywhere."

[Filmbrain]

Michael --

I struggled quite a bit with this review, primarily because there's so much about the film I like and admire. However, when compared to Old Joy (which I think is tremendous), I can't help but feel this one is somehow more calculated. There's a conventionality to it that wasn't present in her last film, and it took me away from this simple, beautiful story.

Wendy's actions in the final few scenes felt so false to me....the speed in which she makes her decision seems too easy. It's the only scene in the film where I felt I could see the strings of her creator.

I certainly don't fall into the category of those who think "now we're really not going anywhere." I'm not craving more plot, or action, or meaning -- I just think we have a character who starts at A and winds up at B, and B seems a bit forced.

As for the Dardennes comparison....I think we could discuss that at length, and we should. See you at one of the parties...

[Karsten]

Hey Andrew,

Thanks for the balanced approach to reviewing this film. Haven't seen it (or Old Joy), but I'm increasingly curious about Reichardt.

I'm surprised though by your comments regarding Lance Hammer's Ballast in your last paragraph. That film struck me indeed as a substantial film, driven forward by Dardenne-esque narrative devices maybe - but a comparison which I regard as wholly positive. Hammer's quiet film profoundly shook a large group of the audience in Karlovy Vary at my screening, and it has remained with me - like only a few films does every year.

Btw, have you seen Let the right one in?

[Filmbrain]

Karsten -- I had another conversation about Ballast today with another critic. Perhaps I should give it a second chance. I did see it towards the end of the Berlinale, and I may already have been suffering from festival burnout.

I did see Let the Right One In -- I liked it. I wasn't quite as excited as some, but I thought it was a solid and original vampire flick.

[TONY THE TIGER]

HOW YOU CAN TELL SOMEONE IS A LOUSY MOVIE REVIEWER: THEY CAN'T DO A REVIEW WITHOUT GIVING AWAY THE PLOT

this review was incredibly poorly written because, among other things, the person writing the review was unable to review the film without detailing a large part of the plot of the movie

contrast this review with the NYT review or the Rolling Stones review where the writer was able to evoke the feel of the movie and make a fair assessment of the movie without spoiling it

why are there so many movie reviewers like the loser who wrote this one who can't review a movie without giving it away?