Director Report Card: Kelly Reichardt (1994)

Earlier this year, I reviewed the films of Debra Granik, that master of naturalistic stories of women surviving distinctly American hardships. Yet some have accused Granik of largely ripping her style off of another critically acclaimed female director that specializes in similarly naturalistic and feminist ideas. Not that I think Kelly Reichardt and Debra Granik are intentionally copying one another or anything but, after doing a retrospective for one, it did seem fair for me to cover the other.

Reichardt is, of course, one of the most critically acclaimed independent filmmaker of the last decade. Among a certain type of film fan that adores thoughtful indie dramas, she has acquired a serious reputation. I'm more touch-and-go on Reichardt, sometimes finding her films a little too digressive, but I'm usually a fan. With her latest release, the much-hyped “First Cow,” being released onto V.O.D., now seems like a good time to look back at her career.

1. River of Grass

Kelly Reichardt would study photography before entering the film program at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, in Boston. Not long after graduating, she would make her feature debut. “River of Grass” would be critically acclaimed upon release in 1994. It would be nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, earn three Independent Spirit Award nominations, and top several prominent Best Of list. The film emerged seemingly from out of nowhere, won praise, and then disappeared back into nowhere... Or perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's look back at Reichardt's distinctive debut.

Cozy's life has been one of minor tragedy. Her mother walked out when she was young. She married right out of high school and now has three kids she feels no connection with. Bored, she wanders off to a bar one night in her Floridian home town. There she meets Lee, who recently turned thirty but struggles with arrested development. Lee recently found a gun – which, coincidentally, belongs to Cozy's police detective father – and shows it to Cozy while chilling in a stranger's pool. The pistol goes off and the two fear they fatally shot someone. The tossed-together couple try to go on the run together, attempting to become outlaws, but the journey is far from smooth.

“River of Grass” is clearly a riff on a particular genre. That would be the “lovers on the run” movie, with “Badlands” being its most obvious ancestor. However, Reichardt seems to be deconstructing elements of this story. “River of Grass” is a road movie without much road. Despite their best efforts, our mismatched hero and heroine never make it far out of Florida. They can't raise much gas money, staying stuck inside a flea-bitten motel for most of the movie. The film's climax doesn't involve a dramatic car chase... But a cop slowly stopping the couple after they nearly run through a tollgate. “River of Grass” intentionally subverts the tension of its premise.

It does this in more ways than one. If this is a road movie without the road, then it's also a crime movie without much crime. We learn fairly early on that the plot-motivating act of manslaughter never actually occurred. The gun went off but nobody was killed, the supposed victim not even interested in pressing charges. Later, Lee's attempt to stick up a gas station goes awry when someone else beats him to the punch, the guy getting his ass kicked in the process. A late film encounter with a  traffic cop deflates spectacularly when the guy says he's only annoyed at them for nearly running through a tollbooth without paying. The only life the two actually take in the course of a story is a mouse in the hotel room, and Cozy's not even sure about that. “River of Grass” flips audience expectations totally on their head. Cozy and Lee are outlaws on the run from... Nothing much at all.

“River of Grass,” in fact, subverts just about every preconceived notion you have of the “outlaw lovers” genre. Are Cozy and Lee lovers at all? I can't even recall if they kiss. They get pretty close to each other in the pool but that's the extent of their physical intimacy. There's certainly never a love scene. If Cozy and Lee are romantically attracted to each other, the film never depicts it. Cozy seems outright ambivalent to her would-be partner-in-crime at times, such as a scene where she lays in the hotel room bed and ignores him. Lee, meanwhile, never makes much in the way of romantic overtures to her. “River of Grass'” duo are so aimless, they don't even seem certain about their feelings for one another.

Honestly, I was quite surprised by how funny “River of Grass” is. Chuckles are, admittedly, not what I expect from a master of working-class naturalism like Reichhardt. But her debut does, indeed, feature some laughs. The aforementioned stick-up attempt goes off the rails so spectacularly, you can't help but laugh. The film frequently mines Lee's ineptitude for humor. The constant way he dodges paying the motel manager grows increasingly desperate as the film goes on. He can't even successfully sell a set of old record albums. Cozy is a slight space-case too, performing random somersaults or handstands out of boredom. These characters are eccentric, maybe even “kooky,” and “River of Grass” mines a quiet sense of humor from them.

The attribute “River of Grass” most has in common with Reichhardt's later films, aside from its compact run time, is its innate sense of location. The film is set in Broward County, Florida, in-between the sweaty wetlands of the Everglades and the bustling nightlife of Miami. The indigenous people called this area the river of grass – hence the title – but now it's mostly just dead-end towns and freeways heading off to more interesting places. We see these dingy motels, simple homes, and stretches of endless highway. Just from its photography, you get the sense that “River of Grass” is about people who are either stuck in this place or can't leave. Reichhardt grew up in this area herself and that kind of familiarity – I'm not sure I'd call it “affection” exactly – is evident in the movie.

“River of Grass” would begin Kelly Reichardt's habit of foregoing recognizable movie stars for unknown performers. Lisa Bowman has largely worked in television, this being one of only three theatrical films she has appeared in. Bowman's performance is subdued. She plays Cozy as someone so accustomed to her lot in life, that she can hardly vocalize her rebellion. Instead, Cozy relates her dissatisfaction through the droll voice-over narration. Bowman brings a fittingly eccentric and small-town voice to that interior monologue. Her frustrations bubbles over in her manic actions, her child-like burst of physical exercise. Bowman has a certain quality that is captivating, seeming as much like a regular person that has ever appeared on a cinema screen.

Something Bowman really gets across, in subtle ways, is Cozy's dissatisfaction with her life. Through her narration, we learn that Cozy rushed into marriage with a high school sweetheart, quickly giving birth to three children. Yet this suburban existence was never anything she wanted.  When looking through the album covers Lee has stolen from his aunt, the camera lingers on vintage images of 1950s pin-up girls there. Here is yet another traditional image of femininity that Cozy feels no kinship with. By attempting to run away with Lee, Cozy is fleeing the lifestyle – of being a housewife or another object of masculine pleasure – that doesn't suit her. That the town is so tricky to leave, at least until Cozy cast off Lee, is a symbol of how difficult it is for women to be free of these paths society has chosen for them.

“River of Grass” is also one of the rare times I've reviewed a film that stars another director I've studied. In addition to directing smart and grisly indie horror movies, Larry Fessenden has also carved out a decent career for himself as a character actor. (Fessenden also co-produced and edited the film, making his appearance in front of the camera no coincidence.) As an actor, Fessenden has a certain uneasy energy that works well for the kind of roles he usually plays. He certainly does a good job of capturing someone who has no idea what they are doing. Fessenden can be both shifty but oddly charming too, making it easy to see why Cozy might be attracted to a man like Lee, even if he quickly proves he's kind of an idiot.

As a visual stylist, Kelly Reichardt seems to have two modes. There are many stretches of “River of Grass” that are practically still. Reichardt often simply watches her characters interact, such as in long scenes where Cozy and Lee are sitting at the bar, getting to know each other. Or when she presents the pictures and memories from Cozy's life. Other times, “River of Grass” is characterized by bursts of movement. Such a the sight of highway overpasses blurring together, as our duo drives along side them. Reichardt even includes chapter stops throughout, which are decorated with bullet holes, an almost self-conscious riff on the kind of crime stories “River of Grass” most definitely is not.

Another element of “River of Grass” that would become a trademarks of Reichardt's is the abrupt ending. The director has, more than once, described her films as simply brief snapshots of her characters' lives. We're stopping in for a little bit and spending some time with them. Here, the film wraps up directly after its most sudden, blunt moment. It feels like a punchline to a shaggy joke, the sudden burst of violence that the rest of “River of Grass'” breakdown of crime movie plotting was denying us. It's also the moment where Cozy breaks free totally of the masculine-created world she was trapped in, making it a logical point to exit on.

Following its critically praised festival run and theatrical limited release, “River of Grass” would become somewhat hard to find. The film was only available as an out-of-print VHS tape for many years. In 2015, the film would be restored, via a Kickstarter campaign, for a Blu Ray edition and an accompanying theater run. This would give “River of Grass” its widest release yet, allowing the partially forgotten movie to be rediscovered as a minor classic of the 90s indie film movement. It's a very good film, an ambitious debut that smartly plays with what the audience expectations while having some interesting things of its own worth saying. [Grade: B]