Wendy and Lucy, the new film by Kelly Reichardt (Old Joy), arrives at a most apt time. Premiering at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival in May, the film preceded the most stark signifiers of the present economic downturn by mere months, giving a prescient portrayal of the financial duress many Americans are now facing. The Labor Department in Washington, D.C., reports the loss of 651,000 jobs in February alone, and downtown Boise homeless shelters, such as the Corpus Christi House, have seen a significant increase of folks with down-and-out stories.
Michelle Williams plays the titular character Wendy, a down-on-her-luck nomad traveling to Alaska with canine companion Lucy to find work. Her ragtag dream is abruptly dissolved when her car breaks down in Oregon, and Wendy is left without resources and far from home, her meager cash wad thinned by towing fees and a shoplifting fine. When Lucy goes missing, Wendy must rely on the help of a friendly—but overworked—security guard (Walter Dalton) to find her and patch together a new plan.
Sparsely scripted and sparingly preachy, it's a film that quietly observes the struggles of the economically depressed, the countless tiny tragedies that pile up to burden those who lack firm financial footing. Poverty is not glamorous, and Wendy doesn't possess the "little-matchbox-girl" pluck that might turn the film into an optimistic, heartwarming tale. Writer/director Reichardt maintains an emotional distance from the central characters. We're never given the details of Wendy's backstory, nor are we privy to her inner thoughts. It's an effective technique, allowing the audience to view Wendy's plight in the same way most of us see the disadvantaged: remotely and, unfortunately, almost dispassionately. Williams' understated performance exactly matches the pitch of the film, with small but intriguing appearances by Dalton, Will Oldham and Will Patton. The scuffed cinematography by Sam Levy shows the byways and back alleys of Oregon in all their gritty glory, and the minimalist soundtrack—composed of single-voiced humming—accentuates the film's message of isolation.
Wendy and Lucy is not a typical drama. It doesn't set out to break your heart, nor is it interested in your pity. Yet it is heartbreaking. While not a true story, it is a truthful portrayal, and what it asks of its audience is to observe, to be a momentary witness to one woman's tribulations. Protected by the fourth wall of the screen, we as an audience can watch a story from which we might normally avert our eyes, thus making the film a far more effective picture of poverty than many of its optimism-injected counterparts.
On Thursday, March 19, The Flicks will hold a special preview of Wendy and Lucy to benefit the Corpus Christi House, a volunteer-run day shelter in Boise. Founded in 2003, the mission provides Boise's disadvantaged population with a telephone, a mailing address, laundry facilities and a community center—amenities we often take for granted but which are vital for getting back on your feet.
"There's a lot of needs that need to be met here in Boise," says Sara Wells, the shelter's services director and a member of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. "Being homeless does make it difficult to get a job, and the CCH tries to break the cycle of dead ends."
Corpus Christi House Board President Rick Skinner, who owns the Flicks, suggested the screening as a way to possibly raise awareness and some much-needed funds. With a $10 ticket price, the showing is only as expensive as watching a Hollywood blockbuster, but half of the cost goes to support the mission. Staff members from the shelter will be on hand to offer more information and answer questions.
Thursday, March 19, 7 p.m., $10 through The Flicks box office or Corpus Christi House, 208-426-0039. The Flicks, 646 Fulton St., 208-342-4222.
|
|
|
|
Comments (0)