Wendy and Lucy (2008)

4.0

DRAMA
U.S. Release Date: 12/10/08
Running Length: 80 Minutes
MPAA Classification: R (Profanity)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1

Cast: Michelle Williams, Wally Dalton, Will Patton
Director: Kelly Reichardt
Screenplay: Kelly Reichardt, Jonathan Raymond
Cinematography: Sam Levy
U.S. Distributor: Oscilloscope Pictures

Music: None

Review by: Carter Moulton

12/30/08

Wendy and Lucy should be nominated for best original score. The film features a soundtrack written by the wind, trees, trains, and footsteps. It doesn’t have any music. I’ve seen this before (No Country for Old Men), but never has it been so effective. The film is only eighty minutes long, but each frame is packed with simplicity, if such a thing is possible. Kelly Reichardt’s second film finds ambition in minimalism. Reichardt immerses us in the small towns and thick forests of the Pacific Northwest without ever drawing attention to himself. It’s a reflective work that is all at once profound, somber, and beautiful.

With five hundred twenty-five dollars to her name, Wendy (Michelle Williams, who can also be seen recently in Synecdoche, New York and Brokeback Mountain) seems to be slipping through life’s grasp. She’s left her hometown (in Indiana) and traveled to Oregon in hopes of reaching Alaska to find work. Lucy, her only friend, is a Golden Retriever mix. Wendy sleeps in her car and collects cans for money. She uses a gas station bathroom to brush her teeth and wears the same clothes, her only clothes, every day. I don’t want to get too far in without acknowledging Michele Williams, who gives the most forlorn and raw performance of the year. Wearing a face of despair throughout the entire film, she struggles to hold it all together, and we feel it. It’s a performance that should be celebrated and remembered, but unfortunately, most of America is opting to see Marley & Me this weekend.

Photo © Oscilloscope Pictures

The conflict is straightforward. Wendy loses Lucy while at a supermarket. With no one to turn to, she spends the length of the picture trying to find her only friend. It’s a character study that quickly grows into a study of dejection and isolation. Reichardt also plays with themes of America’s troubled present and future. We don’t really know what led to Wendy’s downfall, but Reichardt, who co-wrote the screenplay with Jonathan Raymond, definitely sympathizes with the victims of America's economic mess. "You can't get a job without an address or a phone," Wendy tells a security guard. He responds, “You can't get an address without an address, you can't get a job without a job. It's all fixed.” Wendy consciously lies to herself about finding work in Alaska, which is the only ounce of optimism she’s clinging to. With this empty promise comes the exploration of the murkiness of possibility, and what it feels like to be alone.

A quiet masterpiece, Wendy and Lucy is flooded with nature, and everything—including Michele Williams performance—feels refreshingly organic. Reichardt is an effective filmmaker, and watching him find equilibrium between social commentary and character study is impressive in its own right. The film works on such a high level because it doesn’t force us to feel anything. It allows us to sink into its eighty-minute runtime by simply telling a story. Films just don’t do that very often.