The frequent collaborations of Michelle Williams and Kelly Reichardt are perhaps the greatest in American cinema, constantly putting forth beautifully human portraits of life in the Pacific Northwest. Having previously worked together on Wendy and Lucy, Meek’s Cutoff, and Certain Women, the pair continue to bring out the absolute best in each other with their fourth collaboration and Reichardt’s eight feature, Showing Up.
The Portland-based director’s latest takes place across the span of a week as it follows the life of Lizzy Carr (Williams), a sculptor who is deep in the throes of preparing for her upcoming gallery show. In order to stay afloat, she works an administrative job at the Oregon College of Art and Craft, which is run by her mother, Jean (Maryann Plunkett), who is separated from her father (Judd Hirsch), a retired artist who now lets freeloaders stay in his house. As Lizzy attempts to find the space in her busy schedule to finish working on her ceramic female figures, the various issues of her daily life continue to build up and distract her from using her precious time. Lizzy rents an apartment with a studio garage from Jo (a brilliant Hong Chao), her fellow artist and landlord who is busy working on two gallery shows and ignores Lizzy’s requests to fix her broken water heater. When her cat almost kills a pigeon, Lizzy finds herself obligated to look after it with Jo, so the pair take turns taking care of the bird as they work throughout the week. Lizzy, despite the initial hesitancy, treats the injured pigeon with as much concern and gentleness as she does when working on her delicate sculptures.
At first, Lizzy’s ceramics (created for the film by Portland artist Cynthia Lahti) may seem messy and unpolished. However, once they emerge from the school kiln — operated by the encouraging Eric (a graceful André Benjamin, who is a scene-stealer in every film he’s in) — the unique figurines are stunning works that highlight the subtle elegance of her artistic style. The same goes for Reichardt’s film, which starts off slow and bleak but ends up being a subtle yet beautiful character study that explores the complex relationship between life and art. The attention placed on the details of the time-consuming but rewarding artistic process, from the beginning of the clay work up to the art installation and stressful gallery opening in which Lizzy worries about there being too much cheese, is fascinating and treated with much care.
Williams, sporting a mopish brown bob and oversized clothes that look straight out of a Uniqlo catalog, gives a layered and relatable performance as the anxiety-ridden Lizzy. She isn’t much of a talker, so on the surface it appears as though Williams is not doing much with the role, but what makes her performance so perfect is her ability to effortlessly inhabit Lizzy with a physicality that makes her feel wholly real. There is no one that could play Lizzy’s bitter yet gentle nature without any forcefulness better than Williams.
While Showing Up may seem like it doesn’t have much of a narrative to it, it’s an inviting and gentle film that also serves as Reichardt’s funniest movie to date. Reichardt is a master of minimalism and at capturing the mundaneness of life, making these small moments from Lizzy’s life entertaining and delightful to watch. Showing Up may not be as compelling as Reichardt’s other work at first glance, but you’ll be glad you showed up to see it by the time the credits start to roll.
