It's great to look at -- so look at it; for visual presentation, it's among the best. Lovely. Unforgettable, really.
For the story -- well, movies don't have to tell stories, and this one largely doesn't. Oh, there are pieces of stories: moments finely interwoven. Then another scene starts and -- well, it just starts, is all. Never mind the last character, we're on to something else.
I understood beforehand that these were three stories made into a movie, so I was prepared for that challenge. But this film seems a little foggy on what it wants to say, and the effort made to tie the stories together doesn't actually help. When we see that the lover from the first story is the husband in the second story (believe me, telling you this is no spoiler; it's simply face recognition), this adds nothing but distraction -- because marital fidelity isn't even brushed on. The end conclusion is only that the saved an actor salary by having one actor play two unrelated (but prominent) roles.
As I said, movies don't have to tell stories. But if you give us a long long take of an actor driving (to pick one example), something should happen after 60 seconds that didn't happen in the first 30. If we see their car go off the road, there should be either a reason or some consequence. This movie isn't interested in those details. Which isn't unique to Reichardt. I'm reminded a bit of Ozu's films, which often opened with a train, and skipped events that drive other filmmaker's stories (e.g., the climactic wedding in Floating Weeds is completely off-camera, as if cut out for time).
In the Criterion interview, Reichardt objects to the perception of this being a "women's movie" ... then doesn't explain how it is not. It's not because it focuses on women; Steel Magnolias did that too. It's because it focuses quite sharply on women suffering in women-specific ways, and shows no understanding of the few men involved. Which some might consider fair balance for the men-dominated film industry, and the many, many movies which don't understand women. If that's balance, then we may expect many many more movies like this: incapable of understanding men, detailed about dysfunctional suffering, devoid of solutions -- but sympathetic to the women who choose those men, plow on despite their own suffering, and ache for something else they don't know how to find. If that isn't a "women's film" -- what is?
For the story -- well, movies don't have to tell stories, and this one largely doesn't. Oh, there are pieces of stories: moments finely interwoven. Then another scene starts and -- well, it just starts, is all. Never mind the last character, we're on to something else.
I understood beforehand that these were three stories made into a movie, so I was prepared for that challenge. But this film seems a little foggy on what it wants to say, and the effort made to tie the stories together doesn't actually help. When we see that the lover from the first story is the husband in the second story (believe me, telling you this is no spoiler; it's simply face recognition), this adds nothing but distraction -- because marital fidelity isn't even brushed on. The end conclusion is only that the saved an actor salary by having one actor play two unrelated (but prominent) roles.
As I said, movies don't have to tell stories. But if you give us a long long take of an actor driving (to pick one example), something should happen after 60 seconds that didn't happen in the first 30. If we see their car go off the road, there should be either a reason or some consequence. This movie isn't interested in those details. Which isn't unique to Reichardt. I'm reminded a bit of Ozu's films, which often opened with a train, and skipped events that drive other filmmaker's stories (e.g., the climactic wedding in Floating Weeds is completely off-camera, as if cut out for time).
In the Criterion interview, Reichardt objects to the perception of this being a "women's movie" ... then doesn't explain how it is not. It's not because it focuses on women; Steel Magnolias did that too. It's because it focuses quite sharply on women suffering in women-specific ways, and shows no understanding of the few men involved. Which some might consider fair balance for the men-dominated film industry, and the many, many movies which don't understand women. If that's balance, then we may expect many many more movies like this: incapable of understanding men, detailed about dysfunctional suffering, devoid of solutions -- but sympathetic to the women who choose those men, plow on despite their own suffering, and ache for something else they don't know how to find. If that isn't a "women's film" -- what is?