Lady Bird

Runtime: 1 hour, 33 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Greta Gerwig

Quick Impressions:
Immediately after seeing Murder on the Orient Express with my parents last weekend, my eight-year-old daughter gushed to me, “Mom! We got the best preview. I forgot what it was called, but it was so funny! We have to see it!”

Later that afternoon, when it was our turn to go to the movie (while my parents watched my two-year-old), my daughter excitedly pointed up at the screen and whispered to me, “This is the one. Lady Bird. We have to see it! It’s just like you and me!”

After watching Lady Bird tonight, I fretted to my husband, “But I don’t think I’m as hard on her as that mother, am I?”

“No,” he said, adding wisely, “If anything, y’all are both Lady Bird.” Actually, the Lady Bird character reminds me a bit of my sister at the same age. Coincidentally, my sister also graduated from high school in 2003. (It’s very sobering when you immediately get the vibe that the film is set in the distant past of the character’s youth and then realize that distant past is post 9/11. How have I grown so old?)

My daughter and I do constantly banter and bicker like we’re starring in our own quirky, independent film. But I’m definitely not much like the mother in Lady Bird. (If you want to throw your clothes all over your room, for instance, go for it! I certainly don’t have the moral high ground to lecture you.)

I don’t think I’m that much like Lady Bird, either, although I have jumped out of my share of moving cars back in the day, and I did attend a Catholic school at just about the same time (though I was in college).

My daughter, incidentally, didn’t go with us despite her interest because the film is rated R, and I wanted to watch it first.

“Maybe if it’s okay, I’ll take you to see it later for a girls’ day out,” I told her.

But yeah, thanks to one brief-but-graphic scene of Lady Bird looking through a Playgirl, maybe not. (Honestly I could cover my daughter’s eyes during that three second anatomy lesson, but I’m not sure I have the guts to be seen buying her a ticket. The movie is sweet, not salacious, but it’s definitely not intended for the elementary school crowd.)

My husband and I really enjoyed it, though. More than anything, I was ecstatic to be back at what we call “the art theater” for the first time since my son was born. I’m going to take a stab at reviewing all the Oscar nominees this year like I always did in the past, but I’m getting a very late start, so we’ll see what happens.

The Good:
Speaking of Oscars, Lady Bird should definitely be getting some love from the Academy. I mean, I haven’t actually read Greta Gerwig’s screenplay, but it would not surprise me if in an early draft, Laurie Metcalf’s character went by her full name, For Your Consideration Marion McPherson. The character of Lady Bird’s mother is obviously written with an Oscar nomination in mind, and Laurie Metcalf delivers the strongest and most memorable performance in the film. Within seconds, we can see that she’s complex, odd, and strangely real.

Metcalf must have been overjoyed to get a part like this, one that lets her surprise and amaze audiences with her dramatic chops. (I say surprise because most people know her from her supporting roles on Roseanne and The Big Bang Theory. Such well scripted shows often do showcase acting talent, but audiences tend not to notice a performer’s dramatic range when they’re laughing at her on TV. For whatever reason, most of us think of sitcom staples and Oscar-caliber actors in two distinct categories.)

Even though I’m jumping into the year late, I’ll be stunned if Metcalf doesn’t get a supporting nod. It’s not just that the performance is good (though it is, it really is), it’s that this is the type of part the Academy loves, and they’re already aware of the movie. Maybe this is premature, but it feels like a slam dunk to me (not that she’ll win, just that she’ll be nominated).

Saoirse Ronan is really good, too, highly watchable and quite convincing in the role.

But the real star is writer/director Greta Gerwig. Since she’s the same age as the title character and also from Sacramento, I’m guessing that there’s some autobiographical element to the screenplay. Lady Bird is a fun movie to watch, and for a solo directorial debut, it feels extraordinarily focused and controlled. Quirky little female coming-of-age films pop up regularly among prestige pictures, but this is the most charming one I’ve seen in a long time because it’s more focused on being honest than being adorable.

The whole movie is pleasant to watch, darkly funny, often invoking chuckles and occasionally outright laughs (though more from me than my husband). But what really won me over is Lady Bird‘s kindness. Of course, the story is rife with all the angst and frustration and rebellion you would expect from an eighteen-year-old protagonist. But at its heart lies this pervasive kindness, a generous worldview that finds wonder in life and gratitude for the best in people (even though it doesn’t shy away from showing us their worst). The movie ends with an enormous “thank you,” and the whole film feels like an expression of gratitude and wonder for all that life actually is (rather than regret or resentment for what it fails to be).

In keeping with this spirit of generosity and gratefulness, none of the characters is horrible, and even though Lady Bird is so often thwarted, no one emerges as a villain.

She goes to a Catholic high school, and she doesn’t particularly like it, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love it. Her mother is exasperating and far too hard on her, but she’s also probably the most important figure in her world. (They may butt heads, but they also enjoy spending time together, and when Lady Bird is in genuine distress, her Mom offers unqualified comfort.) Lady Bird’s two romantic relationships are disasters, but neither boyfriend is a monster. She damages her honest friendship with a nice girl for a relationship built on lies with a mean girl. In the end, both girls forgive her and turn out to be pretty nice (each in her own way). In every instance, the people who take care of her care for her (even those strict, ol’ nuns).

The movie doesn’t shy away from showing us the worst in everyone and everything, yet like Lady Bird, we learn to love it all, anyway. Just like the much-maligned streets of Sacramento, the world presented in this movie is quietly beautiful, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real.

Gerwig could definitely win an Oscar for the screenplay, and I hope she does. Lady Bird is so thematically cohesive, strengthened by metaphor, though it does not seem that way as you watch. Somehow, this simply told, straight forward story about a girl manages to convey its profound message so deftly that the narrative never feels encumbered.  Ronan’s captivating turn in the lead role helps.  You never doubt that she’s a frustrated eighteen-year-old girl from Sacramento, and you root for her even when her choices become cringe-worthy.

The supporting performances are all pretty great, too. Tracy Letts makes Lady Bird’s father so sweet and sad and charming and funny. To be honest, I was delighted just to see Letts on the screen. I know he’s acted for years, but I think of him first as the guy who wrote August: Osage County and Killer Joe. I really liked what he brought to the role.

I also loved Beanie Feldstein as Julie, Lady Bird’s best friend who is quietly experiencing her own senior drama, probably just as intense as her friend’s but never presented to us center stage. This makes Julie the perfect cinematic friend. Her character is just as fully realized as Lady Bird’s, but she never pulls focus. She complements without upstaging. Feldstein plays her with such sparkling sweetness, too. I’d love to see her again, and I’m sure I will since she’s Jonah Hill’s little sister, a fact I did not know until I double checked the spelling of her name for this review. Comedic talent and an infectious smile obviously run in the family.

Marielle Scott as Lady Bird’s brother’s girlfriend is another standout. (In each of these cases, I ask myself, “Was it the performance or the character that made such an impression?” In almost every case in this film, the answer is both. Here great acting, perfect casting, and superb writing collide to create characters who leave a mark.) Jordan Rodriguez is good as Lady Bird’s brother Miguel, too. A couple of key moments with these two illustrate an aspect of the film that I absolutely love. Over and over again, characters speak truth to one another at surprising times, and the people in this movie (the protagonist in particular) actually learn from their interactions with others.

Stephen Henderson has a very nice supporting role, too, as Father Leviatch, the drama teacher. Of course, as a Catholic, I love that the film does not automatically demonize members of the clergy. So many Hollywood productions portray priests and nuns as (if not outright evil, at least) mildly creepy, or at best oblivious to reality. The sympathetic view we get here is a refreshing change.  I also love the way that Gerwig’s screenplay doesn’t waste any characters. The scene that Henderson shares with Laurie Metcalf provides direct evidence of something Marielle Scott’s character insists is true about Lady Bird’s mother.

I suppose what I really love is that all of these supporting characters feel like actual, three-dimensional people. They don’t just show up to perform a function and leave. Even if Lady Bird doesn’t have the insight or maturity to understand the nuances of each character, the audience is given a chance to draw insights of our own. And speaking of lack of insight, I think it’s great how often the characters inadvertently insult one another, usually (though not always) because of the obliviousness of youth. That feels so real.

I remember really liking Odeya Rush in the Goosebumps movie, and she’s good here, too, playing an increasingly not-so-mean girl. And I went absolutely berserk when I heard the voice of Laura Marano. I gasped to my husband, “That was Ally from Austin & Ally, wasn’t it?” I was sure I’d heard her voice, but then I never could get a clear look at her face, and for a while I thought I was going crazy. If my daughter were paid by the hour for bingeing Disney Channel shows, we would be richer than J.K. Rowling right now, so I know most of their stars and really like Marano. She has only a tiny part in this, but she keeps all her clothes on, so hopefully she’s following the Joseph Gordon Levitt method of transitioning into adult roles. I wish her well.

As boyfriend 1 and boyfriend 2, both Lucas Hedges (Danny O’Neill) and Timothée Chalamet (Kyle Scheible) also got my attention. Let me tell you, I’d rather date Danny. Kyle I found spectacularly annoying and incredibly realistic. Chalamet is perfect in the role, although I personally found his character one of the least interesting (and most infuriating). He feels like a walking cliché. In a way, I wish the movie were about him and we got to see more about his father because that must be what humanizes him, and, as is, he usually seems like nothing more than the frustrating epitome of a certain (rather common) type of young man. Danny has his flaws, but he’s so easy to sympathize with. Kyle is just annoying. But both actors do play their roles well.

Best Scene:
My favorite character in the movie is Lois Smith’s delightful Sister Sarah Joan. A nun who has a sense of humor and genuinely cares about her students? In real life, there are a lot of those. In movies, this is a rare and precious character indeed.

For me, the moment that makes the movie is Lady Bird’s chat with Sister Sarah Joan in her office late in the story. Not only do we get some lovely bursts of humor here, but Lady Bird also gets a big clue to unlocking the mystery of her mother (and insight into her own character as well). The kernel of wisdom that Sister Sarah Joan offers regarding Lady Bird’s feelings about her home town certainly applies to far more than Sacramento. It’s food for thought for Lady Bird, and for the rest of us, as well.

Best Action Sequence:
Lady Bird’s dramatic exit from the car in the film’s first scene definitely establishes tone very quickly. I also love the family argument that ends when she throws a notebook onto the floor.  Obviously this isn’t the kind of movie that has much action, but Lady Bird is the type of protagonist who acts a lot, quickly, decisively, and with surprising confidence given the relentless criticism of her mother.

I think of the introduction of the replacement drama teacher as an action sequence, though. This part has a lot of energy and leads to one of the movie’s best jokes. (I actually laughed out loud when Julie tells Lady Bird the part she has been assigned. It’s funny because it’s so ridiculous—and yet it’s the perfect part for her).

Best Scene Visually:
I’m partial to two montages, one when Lady Bird’s mother decides to cheer her up by doing their favorite activity. The other is Lady Bird’s prom. Funnily enough, these two sequences have an incredibly similar tone.

Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Laurie Metcalf:
Metcalf’s scene in the car at the airport will probably be her Oscar clip, but all of her scenes are fabulous. I love Laurie Metcalf in this movie even though her character is sometimes unsympathetic. Well, she’s sympathetic. She’s just exasperating. You feel for her, but she’s her own worst enemy and sometimes makes things just as needlessly difficult as her daughter does. I think the single line that Marion says to Lady Bird about her own mother is so telling and basically explains the whole character. That bit of information and the fact that she works with psychiatric patients in tandem give us the best insight we will get into Marion McPherson.

 
 At dinner afterwards, I found myself defending the character to my husband again and again (odd because he wasn’t attacking her, and I actually find her behavior quite vexing). He was just marveling about something she fails to say to Lady Bird in the fitting room scene. Because of her mother’s influence and the career path she’s chosen for herself, honesty (often in the form of examination of conscience) means a great deal to Marion. That’s what I think, anyway.

Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Saoirse Ronan:
When Lady Bird goes shopping for a prom dress with her mother, we get a look at their entire complex, crazy, dysfunctional, caring, exasperating relationship in miniature. She drops a lot of her rebellious attitude here and becomes earnest, vulnerable, and pleading. It’s a good moment.

Since Lady Bird is the protagonist, Saoirse Ronan actually has a number of great scenes without her mother, but all of her very best scenes are with her mother. (The scene where she discovers the prescription meds in the bathroom is a great mother/daughter moment, too.) The entire movie seems like a long, tortured dialogue between the two of them. Ironically, Marion’s long silence late in the film probably gives her daughter enough time alone with her own thoughts to make some discoveries for once. Maybe that’s not ironic. Maybe it’s just inevitable, but it’s still what happens.

As Lady Bird, Ronan holds our attention for the whole movie (and her accent never slips). She’s surprisingly strong and decisive for a teenaged female film heroine. Even when she makes mistakes, she charges into them with stunning boldness and (maybe even too much) self-confidence.

The Negatives:
The only real negative about this film is that it’s hardly the first quirky adolescent girl coming-of-age story out there. Still it feels pretty fresh and different. I did feel some of the teen characters were left a bit underdeveloped (people like Jenna and Kyle), but perhaps that’s because they’re actually underdeveloped as humans. (We would just assume that they’re shallow people except we get these little hints that a bit more lies beneath the surface.)

If you’re looking for lots of action or expensive special effects, this isn’t the movie for you, but for what it is, it’s a very well-made film. 

Overall:
Lady Bird is a charming movie that entertains us with well-drawn characters and clever dialogue and leaves us with an overflowing of gratitude for all the good in our lives. It’s a beautiful film. If you like coming-of-age stories (and you’re not eight years old) you should definitely see it.

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