Wendy and Lucy
Tuesday, March 24, 2009 at 9:30PM The Smallness of the Large
Once in a blue moon a small, independent gem of a movie comes along and I am forced to reevaluate my formidable stance that film is not only dead as an art form, but that its memory is continually being ass raped by the current crop of Hollywood glitterati and talentless hacks who dare refer to themselves as “filmmakers’’ or “producers“.
Kelly Reichardt’s Wendy and Lucy is that film.
It’s efficient, bleak, unglamorous storytelling in a time where these elements are looked upon as detractions not boons to the cinematic experience.
How good is Wendy and Lucy?
Suffice to say, it is a film during which you do not eat popcorn.
And if you do, you’re going to want to share it or bring it back up from guilt.
Michelle Williams (Dawson’s Creek, Brokeback Mountain) has turned in a persona changing performance. Her Wendy is one of those roles that can shift the public perception of an actress and channel a career into art instead of fluff. Think of Nicole Kidman in To Die For or Dogville. Then think of Nicole as a whore to whom those values were forsaken.
Wendy is a young woman (early ‘20s) who has left a life behind. We don’t know the harsh reality, but through snippets of dialogue and her beleaguered confidence, we know it was not a comfortable past or an impulsive flight.
She has gathered up several hundred dollars, a few changes of clothes and her dog (Lucy) for a journey in a beat up Honda to Alaska to find work.
She stops in a small town somewhere near the Oregon/Washington border and sleeps in her car overnight in a drug store parking lot.
Awakened by a security guard (a break your heart performance by Wally Dalton) she is unable to start her car.
This begins the downward money/luck spiral at the political and social core of the film.
Wendy is victim to the now certain lie of the “American Dream“. That anyone with gumption, drive, a work ethic and two nickels to rub together can make a go of it in our great, all welcoming capitalist society.
That dream died a long time ago. It never truly existed for "everyone" and Wendy quickly finds the barriers to it.
It is best heard in the security guard’s summation, “You can’t get an address without an address. You can’t get a job without a job."
She later succumbs to using his cell phone as a contact number.
The system is rigged, the dice are loaded and the rules of the game shift swiftly for those without the dough-re-mi.
Wendy resorts to shoplifting, which inevitably leads to an arrest and the loss of Lucy.
The bail and her car trouble threatens to erase her meager savings and she finds herself lost, alone, impoverished and vulnerable.
Reichardt and Jonathon Raymond’s lean script is as bare boned as Wendy’s plight. Sparse dialogue, some visual clues, the kindness of some, the pettiness of others, a cautionary scene in the woods, a phone call to a relative and the tenderness between a young woman, a kindly old man and her dog are all the audience has to go on.
It is more than enough. It is absorbing and touching.
If it does not move you, you are a monster.
The release of Wendy and Lucy could not have been more timely. The current economic meltdown will assuredly make her story an everyday occurrence across this nation. Unfortunately, this film and people like Wendy will be ignored by an indifferent, self-absorbed public who prefer their movies and their people to be as big, dumb, indulgent and superficial as they are.
This country is hell on the little people.
But don’t be fooled by the story’s convenient relevance. This is a powerful film and message. Wendy has always been out there. In the cracks of our society. Believing in the ability of re-invention that this country once afforded its citizens. Looking for a hint of comfort, self-determination, respect and perhaps, just a home for her dog.
Reader Comments (2)
and it has a dog in the film, I'm shocked I tell you. How was the dog's acting job?
The dog was serviceable. I'm surprised by your astonishment, however. I always enjoy performances by animals. I've been a fan of Russell Crowe for years.