Greta Gerwig

  • Frances Ha (2012)

    Frances Ha (2012)

    (In French, On TV, June 2021) I wasn’t expecting an epiphany from a casual viewing of mumblecore classic Frances Ha, but I got one for free, and a pretty good one at that. By itself, the film describes a few months in the life of one 27-year-old woman, starting from a cozy roommate arrangement with her best friend, and then going on (through a succession of temporary addresses that act as chapter title cards) to her putting down the foundations of a more stable adult life. (The title comes from her putting her name, or at least a part of it, on a more permanent domicile.)  Greta Gerwig is quite good in the title role, and for good reason — she co-wrote the script with director Noah Baumbach. Showily shot in black-and-white with consumer cameras, it’s a film that spends a lot of time among young people scraping together a living in New York City, rooming together to afford small apartments, going from one dead-end job to another, eating in restaurants and having one fling after another. Our protagonist seems even more unmoored than her contemporaries — unable to get a fixed address, overspending, sabotaging her relationships, lying or avoiding the truth. She’s a bit of a mess, but here’s the thing: From the vantage point of my stable mid-forties, I found her more likable than annoying, whereas I am dead certain that I would have been far more critical of her often-self-destructive actions as a younger viewer. That wasn’t what I was expecting from Frances Ha, and neither was the mirror realization that my own disputable actions as a younger person were probably seen with the same amount of amused sympathy by my elders and mentors. Better yet; I’m liable to become even more sympathetic as I age, which feels like one of the keys to elderly contentment that I’ve been hearing about. All wisdom may be found in movies, after all.

  • Little Women (2019)

    Little Women (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) After seeing a few versions of Little Women through the history of filmmaking, I love that this is a story that gets a remake every few decades. It’s a splendid lens through which to see the evolution of cinema, whether technically, thematically or socially. Keep the same story, but do it differently with a new cast – the differences become the real content. Are you more of a Katharine Hepburn, Wynona Ryder or Saoirse Ronan fan? This newest version, thanks to writer-director Greta Gerwig, is in fairly intense conversation with Louisa May Alcott’s written material– the social values of 1869 being interrogated (but not always criticized) by 2019. It helps that I find the base story comforting – and it’s not hard at all to cheer for the writer-protagonist. Technically, this is the best adaptation of Little Woman to date – superb cinematography, immersive set design, great costumes and top-notch sound design. Acting-wise, time will tell if the all-star cast will endure as well (or better!) than previous takes on the same material. But one thing’s for sure – this is the definitive circa-2019 take. Now let’s wait for the 2039 one.

  • Lady Bird (2017)

    Lady Bird (2017)

    (Netflix Streaming, July 2018) One of the things I like best about cinema is its ability to make us sympathize with the oddballs who don’t quite fit in their surroundings. This goes double for teenage coming-of-age dramas such as Lady Bird, a film that strongly revolves (to the point of not even resolving the dramatic arcs of supporting character) around the self-consciously quirky Lady Bird, a teenager about to escape her Sacramento high school for the call of bigger-city higher education. It’s her last year in a town too small for her, but her cultivated eccentricity doesn’t mean that she’s a saint—her propensity for self-harm is spectacular, and much of the film’s plot is about her learning to like the people (mostly family) that she has pushed away. It’s frustrating, endearing and occasionally very funny (except when it isn’t). The protagonist herself is a good representation of the lengths through which teenagers will go to in order to establish themselves as distinct, much to their own expense. It’s a familiar film genre, but actress-turned-director Greta Gerwig manages to make it all seem fresh and interesting all over again, with substantial contributions from Saoirse Ronan (playing much younger than usual) and Laurie Metcalf in a complex role as a mom who can be her daughter’s worst enemy and best friend. I wasn’t expecting to like Lady Bird very much—and for much of the film, the vast gulf between the protagonist’s modest skills and her opinion of herself exasperated me to no end—but it eventually won me over. Even the affectionate portrayal of Sacramento is charming. While I’m not planning on re-watching Lady Bird any time soon, I think that a second viewing may be funnier knowing that everything will be all right in the end.