Following in the same steps as her first film, Old Joy, Kelly Reichardt has constructed another small, simple, minimalist film. Wendy is a hippie chick who has nothing but a few hundred dollars to her name, her car and her dog. Lucy is that dog, and Wendy's only companion. Wendy is traveling to Alaska for some seasonal work, and has stopped off in small town Oregon for a night's sleep (in her car, of course). In the morning, she finds her car does not work. Not knowing how much of her approximately $500 it will take to fix it, Wendy makes the incredibly, almost unbelievably moronic choice to shoplift a can of dog food for Lucy. This results in the obliged prosecution, which separates the title characters for several hours. Upon Wendy's return, Lucy is nowhere to be found. Most of the movie consists of Wendy looking around for her pooch, while her money slowly dwindles between the shoplifting fine, the Xerox usage and the tow, not to mention the impending cost of repair.
Michelle Williams plays Wendy, and everything we know about her is due to her masterful performance. Much like in Old Joy, Reichardt gives us almost nothing to work with concerning who this person is. We learn of a not very sympathetic sister (and rather more sympathetic brother-in-law) back in Indiana, but we don't learn whether Wendy's wanderings have anything to do with these people. Little to nothing is implied there, though I suspect some who feel like digging will come up with a theory involving Wendy's illicit affair with her sister's husband. Honestly, her history is not much worth speculating. It's Wendy's characteristics which identify her, her cropped hair and lack of attachment to material things. I'm aware of her subculture because one of my best friends from high school became a professional hippie after college. I half kid, but you really do have to work at it. He has told me about many of his acquaintances, among whom were female drifters accompanied by large dogs.
I actually really like Reichardt's style. It's hypnotic and often beautiful. And I think Wendy and Lucy is an even better film than Old Joy. However, it's impossible to feel too much sympathy for Wendy. I mean, shoplifting isn't a major crime or anything, but why would you even chance it when you're in such a precarious situation? A can of Alpo costs, what, a dollar fifty? Dropping a buck fifty is probably not going to tip the scales on whether or not you can afford to replace the serpentine belt on your car. And then there's the film's finale. It's powerful, to be sure. But it rings completely false.
These drifter women don't have a dog solely for companionship. They are an essential part of the lifestyle. Their symbiotic benefit is that they serve as protection. The scene where the hobo assaults Wendy would never have happened if Lucy had been there to protect her master. Without the dog, this 100 pound woman is completely vulnerable to any of the male drifters with whom she crosses paths. There's no way this woman is going to give up her dog.
Michelle Williams plays Wendy, and everything we know about her is due to her masterful performance. Much like in Old Joy, Reichardt gives us almost nothing to work with concerning who this person is. We learn of a not very sympathetic sister (and rather more sympathetic brother-in-law) back in Indiana, but we don't learn whether Wendy's wanderings have anything to do with these people. Little to nothing is implied there, though I suspect some who feel like digging will come up with a theory involving Wendy's illicit affair with her sister's husband. Honestly, her history is not much worth speculating. It's Wendy's characteristics which identify her, her cropped hair and lack of attachment to material things. I'm aware of her subculture because one of my best friends from high school became a professional hippie after college. I half kid, but you really do have to work at it. He has told me about many of his acquaintances, among whom were female drifters accompanied by large dogs.
I actually really like Reichardt's style. It's hypnotic and often beautiful. And I think Wendy and Lucy is an even better film than Old Joy. However, it's impossible to feel too much sympathy for Wendy. I mean, shoplifting isn't a major crime or anything, but why would you even chance it when you're in such a precarious situation? A can of Alpo costs, what, a dollar fifty? Dropping a buck fifty is probably not going to tip the scales on whether or not you can afford to replace the serpentine belt on your car. And then there's the film's finale. It's powerful, to be sure. But it rings completely false.
These drifter women don't have a dog solely for companionship. They are an essential part of the lifestyle. Their symbiotic benefit is that they serve as protection. The scene where the hobo assaults Wendy would never have happened if Lucy had been there to protect her master. Without the dog, this 100 pound woman is completely vulnerable to any of the male drifters with whom she crosses paths. There's no way this woman is going to give up her dog.