Reichardt delivers a sharp, funny look at creativity
I saw Showing Up one week ago today, and sat down to write this review at 5:00am this morning. Yes, I procrastinated, even though I love to write about movies. But I think writer/director Kelly Reichardt would forgive me and understand my dilemma, as it’s exactly what her newest picture so charmingly explores.
Reichardt here again collaborates with her muse Michelle Williams (Wendy and Lucy; Meek’s Cutoff; Certain Women) and co-writer Jonathan Raymond (First Cow; Wendy and Lucy; Meek’s Cutoff). What they’ve made here is an empathetic and very funny love letter to artists and the creative process.
Williams is terrific as Lizzy, a Portland-based sculptor with a day job working for her mother Jean (Maryann Plunkett), an administrator at the fictional Oregon School of Art and Craft (the campus scenes were filmed at the now closed Oregon College of Art and Craft). Lizzy is scrambling to get pieces ready for an upcoming gallery exhibit, but readily turns her attention to any distraction that comes her way. One of these comes in the form of an injured pigeon that her landlord and fellow artist Jo (Hong Chau) has rescued. “It has a broken wing and is stressed out,” Jo tells Lizzy, who, unbeknownst to Jo, bears some responsibility for the bird’s injury.
Jo’s observation applies not just to the wounded bird, but to each of the film’s characters. Lizzy’s father Bill (Judd Hirsch) is a retired renowned ceramist still fighting with his ex-wife and making icky overtures to young female art students, much to the chagrin of his daughter. Lizzy’s brother Sean (John Magaro, from Reichardt’s First Cow), once a brilliant promising artist, now suffers from paranoia and mental health challenges. And one of the story’s key elements is Lizzy and Jo’s love-hate relationship. Jo claims to be too busy to fix Lizzy’s hot water because she’s working on her own gallery show, yet she has time to chat idly in the yard. Lizzy’s interactions with her are a muddled ball of frustration, competition, egotism, and friendship and respect.
What Reichardt does so effectively, though, is show us that, flawed as they are, all these characters are worthy of our empathy and admiration because they don’t let negativity or dawdling self-doubt suppress their creative impulses. Even as Showing Up gently pokes fun at the art world, with great bits about the awkwardness of art openings and the sometimes pretentiousness of art school classes, it also celebrates those brave enough to embrace and share their creations.
And of course setbacks will happen: one of Lizzy’s sculptures is burned accidentally by the kiln operator, who then tries to convince Lizzy that the scarred piece is actually more interesting and unique for the mistake. Reichardt’s movie makes the same argument about not just art, but about those who create it as well: don’t worry about perfection or beat yourself up for succumbing to an occasional diversion, the picture says. In the end, those interruptions may help inspire you. Just get out there and make something that brings you joy.
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Showing Up opens today at Bay Area theaters.
