I divulge this to set up the profound impact that Wendy and Lucy, a new independent film starring Michelle Williams (Brokeback Mountain; mother of Heath Ledger's daughter, but that's secondary to her wonderful talent).
Only playing at one theater as of now, the Film Forum, in downtown Manhattan. Hopefuly it expands at some point. Well worth a peek.
The story is as basic as a film can be: Wendy, a drifter traveling in her beatdown '88 Honda Accord to Alaska from Indiana in hopes of brighter days, with little-to-no money in her pcoket, has only one true friend, her mutt/dog Lucy. After a few unfortunate circumstances while they're pit-stopping in a lower-class Oregon town, Lucy goes missing. Wendy, determined to find the only thing that loves her unconditionally and doesn't demand money or anything, uses whatever miniscule resources she has to track the dog down.
***Which makes me think, Billy Madison would be proud. "You gotta think....you have a pet. You have a responsibility. You don't give up after a [few minutes] like a goon. You get your ass out there and you find that fuckin' dog!!!" The truth.
That's it, pretty much. 80 minutes of said plot. But what makes Wendy & Lucy such a memorable and lasting movie is simply that....its simplicity. Not to mention the stand-and-applaud performance from Williams, who gives Wendy a quietness that suggests a woman who has fully accepted her meagerness, and simply rolls with the punches out of necessity and survival-needs. The trials and strife that life keeps shoving in her face have long been understood, and she's doing whatever possible to cope. Move forward in a world that seems to have forgotten about her, letting her fall through its cracks. She's on screen nearly every second, and I was never less than captivated. It's been a pretty outstanding year for actress-performances, and I can honestly say that Michelle Williams should be a shoe-in for a Best Actress nod, Oscar time. Hands down. Just nominate the gal already. Shit.
Co-written and directed by Kelly Reichardt, who I've read had previously made a couple other quality indies, Wendy and Lucy connects on a truly "human" level. Anybody who has ever stressed a lack of funds, you'll squirm and ache watching Wendy collect as many littered cans as possible for measly amounts of cash, shoplifting dog food, and washing herself in a tiny, grungy gas station bathroom, all just to make ends meet. If you've ever had a dog, your heart will shatter as we watch Wendy being driven away in a cop car as Lucy is tied up outside a supermarket, knowing that she'll return to a dog-less lot. I can't recall any music being used here, either; all that accompanied the natural sounds was the haunting humming of an Williams herself, a mouth-made melody that's still floating around in my head. Establishing melancholic residence.
I'm sure that I'd still love Wendy and Lucy even if I wasn't such a dog fanatic. But I'm not sure if the film would've lingered in my thoughts as heavily as it is now. The conclusion that Reichardt stages is completely unexpected, yet makes total sense, and it left me somewhat devastated. Thinking, "Would I have done that if this were myself and Zoey?" I wish to not even ponder further.
A small-as-can-be, inconspicuous, emotionally-powerful flick. Two Zoeys up, certainly. Makes me want to hop on the train, open the parents' house door, and giving big Zo a huge hug, and some well-deserved, tasty Snausages.
I'll see her tomorrow night, actually. Sweet.
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