Director Report Card: Kelly Reichardt (2023)

8. Showing Up

In 1914, Canadian painter and First Nations advocate Emily Carr would return to her Victoria home town. She opened a boarding house called the House of All Sorts, hopeful that having a day job as a landlord would allow her more time to paint. In fact, the new job proved to take up most of her free time and she painted little over the next decade. This story must've touched something in Kelly Reichardt's brain. She set out to make a movie inspired by this story, even traveling to Canada to research Carr. Upon discovering Carr was more well known than she realized, and not wanting to make a direct biopic, the seed of this idea evolved into a new film. A24 would scoop up “Showing Up,” which would attract critical praise on the festival circuit, including being nominated for the Palme D'or at Cannes. 

Lizzy is a struggling artist, doing what she can to complete her sculptures. She has an upcoming art show that she is preparing for. However, balancing her artistic passion with her daily responsibilities proves challenging. Her landlord, another artist named Jo, keeps forgetting to turn the hot water back on. Her father has strange people living with him. Her brother, Sean, seems to be having a mental breakdown. Her mother demands she complete a lot of office work at her former art college. Adding to this pressure is when Lizzy's cat attacks a pigeon that flew into her studio. Jo finds the bird, unaware that Lizzy's cat injured it, and begins to care for it. Soon enough, this little animal is added to Liz's growing list of obligations. 

Anybody who has any sort of creative passion – whether that be writing, painting, sculpting, or anything else under the sun – has surely experienced this. You're working hard to get into the groove, to get those creative juices pumping. You're trying to focusing on completing something that means a lot to you, that expresses something important to you. You've put a lot of thought into it. And, five minutes after you've started, the dog needs to go out. Or your phone rings and your sister needs you to run an errand for her. It's always something like that, isn't it? Sometimes you can get back into the creative mindset quickly afterwards. More often, your entire evening is derailed. This is an all-too-common challenge for all of us and it's something “Showing Up” captures very well. It seems Lizzy is always pushing her self to get more done and is always getting distracted by some other pressing matter. 

“Showing Up” doesn't attempt to find any definitive answer to why this happens so often. Kelly Reichardt isn't that kind of filmmaker. However, the movie does have a fairly clear observation to be made. Lizzy is a quote-unquote successful artist, in the sense that she's far more successful at what she does than most people. She has a gallery show and interested buyers. Yet, even from her position, it's clear that no one values her time. Jo doesn't think to turn the hot water back on because she doesn't think Lizzy's comfort is important. She's constantly helping out with her parents because she knows it's her responsibility. No one ever considers if her time has any value. No one sees her pulling an all-nighter to complete her sculptures. No one sees her stressing about the incoming deadline. Art is not valued in our capitalistic society, because it doesn't produce the kind of receipts the way lots of other labor does. Without committing on it too directly, “Showing Up” clearly shows how difficult it is to function as an artist in such a world.

A small, key moment occurs when Lizzy visits Jo's studio, as she prepares for her own show. It's been a challenge for Lizzy to complete her project. One of her sculptures got burned in the kiln, to which another man assumes it's not a big deal. It's just so easy for everyone else, isn't it? “Showing Up” never dwells long on the role ego and, perhaps, even arrogance plays in the artistic world. Lizzy is never seen disparaging her fellow artists for having better luck or an easier time than her. And maybe she doesn't feel any resentment or jealousy. But if she did, who could blame her? Some of us struggle and struggle to achieve anything. Others seem to have few problems getting what they want. Even if it only seems that way, you can't help but feel a certain way about that. With just a look, Reichardt and her team conveys so much meaning. 

Time, of course, is always of the essence. Not just because Lizzy has an incoming art show she has to be ready for. Her father lets friends of his, that Lizzy doesn't know and doesn't have any reason to trust, live with him. Is this simply an example of bohemian eccentricity? Or is her dad's mental acuity starting to slip? It would be a valid concern, not just because her dad is old but because, as her brother's erratic behavior proves, mental illness issues clearly run in the family. Is part of why Lizzy feels so pressured to get her art out there is this lingering fear that, maybe, some day she won't be able to sculpt or paint at all? Then again, I suppose we're all going to run out of time eventually. Her brother digs up a massive hole in his backyard, in an act of mania, which recalls a man digging his own grave. How much of our lives, that we could spend making art that's important to us, do we waste on little, common bullshit? How much closer to the grave does every distraction brings us?

One has to ask to whom someone is responsible after a certain point. We need hot water to live. We have to take jobs to make the funds necessary to survive. But what about our family? If Lizzy's mom, dad, and brother drive her so crazy, if they pull her away from her passion so often, why doesn't she choose to put them out of her life? “Showing Up” doesn't offer a definitive answer. We don't even learn what exactly is wrong with her brother, though it's obviously some sort of mental or emotional disruption. Clearly, Lizzy feels she owes it to her family members to watch after them. It's a responsibility we choose, after a certain age. They took care of us in the past and so we must return the favor. Maybe not everyone struggles with this but clearly the protagonist of “Showing Up” does. She takes care of her family, her art, and the pigeon. Artists are built to nurture things, from creation to finality. Perhaps those of us in that frame of mind are simply predisposed to it. 

A few times in the past, Reichardt has used animals in her films as embodiment of the story's themes or ideas. Such as Lucy the dog or the covertly milked titular bovine in “First Cow.” The little injured pigeon is clearly symbolic of the journey in “Showing Up.” That she ends up in Lizzy's care, after her cat harmed it, seems to represent how she looks after her brother and parents. It seems to be karmic in some ways. Or maybe Lizzy is just unlucky. Either way, she has to show up – the title is significant – and take care of the bird every day. She constantly references changing the newspaper it poops on. At the same time, she's working on her sculptures, showing up and trying to get them done. After watching after the pigeon for the whole movie, at her gallery show, it flies away. Not to dissimilar to how it is with a work of art. You baby it, foster it, look after it closely, and then you let it loose. And maybe, perhaps, that's the attitude Lizzy needs to take with her family too.

Ultimately, “Showing Up” fits in neatly with Reichardt's other films. She has a distinct style by this point. Christopher Blauvelt, her regular cinematographer by now, shoots many of the scenes with a far-off, observational eye. “Showing Up” feels even more like a documentary than some of Reichardt's prior films, in the way it watches people as they go about their day. We see Lizzy and Jo linger on their artistic projects, managing the minutia of assembling an unique creation. This approach fits with “Showing Up's” thesis about doing the grunt work everyday. It's not a film that focuses on the glory and pay-off of being an artist. It's about the daily drudgery, of making sure the thing gets done even if you have a hundred things pulling you away from it ever day. That the film shows us more of the mundane aspects of the job then anything us shouldn't be surprising. 

This means “Showing Up” is not an especially action-packed movie. In the past, I tend to swing back and forth on Reichardt's movies, finding them either highly emotional experiences or having trouble keeping my eyes open the whole time. “Showing Up” straddles this line throughout. I've seen other people, including some press material, refer to the film as a “comedy.” This is a lot like calling “Old Joy” or “Certain Women” comedies. You may chuckle once or twice, at a relatable situation, but they are not gut-busting, laugh-a-minute knee-slappers. Truthfully, I found the loneliness and frustration on display in “Showing Up” way too personal to laugh too much at it.  I feel Lizzy's pain and I also understand her daily struggle. Yet it's hard to get around how crushingly slow this film can be at times. On a surface level, even if you appreciate the artist's issues, this is still a movie where not a lot visibly happens.

Nevertheless, it's a worthwhile watch. Michelle Williams stars as Lizzy, making her fourth appearance in a Reichardt joint. And I didn't even recognize her at first. Williams, an actress with such an innate beauty and grace to her that she once played Marilyn Monroe, dresses down here to say the least. She spends the entire movie slouching, sticking her chin out in such a way that she looks very jowly, an unflattering bowl cut wig on her head, wearing dowdy dresses and big T-shirts the whole time. You read a lot about glamorous stars “uglying it up” for awards' recognition. Which I don't think was Williams' goal with such an understated movie as this. Clearly, this is just what the part called for. Yet it is surprising to see a known actor disappear so totally into a part. Williams' performance is impressive, in the sense that she's totally unrecognizable, that the star ceases to exist and all we see is the character existing in their natural environment.

This is not a movie of overstated and bold emotions, so the impressions we get of the character emerges from the crinkles in Williams' brow, the consternation in her voice, the frustration on her face as she tries her best. If anything, the supporting cast gets to do the showier acting. Hong Chau plays Jo as someone without a care in the world, an ideal foil to Lizzy and the constant difficult she has getting the simplest things done. John Magaro as Sean gets the showier part, giving us a good idea of how this person is loosing his mind without overdoing it in any way. Judd Hirsch does what we expect from him, making Lizzy's dad a likable and avuncular presence with only a little bit of screen time. Amanda Plummer has a cameo as one of his house guest. Brighter personalities stick out in a film as intentionally muted as this.

It's happened before. “Meek's Cutoff” is one of Reichardt's most critically acclaimed films and, the first time I saw it, it left me incredibly cold. And bored, to be frank. It wasn't until a second viewing that I was able to get pass the chilliness and appreciate the film more. My reaction to “Showing Up” isn't that negative but I have to say, I can't quite agree with the rave reviews I've read either. “Showing Up” is an interesting film, with some really insightful things to say about the artist's relationship with their work and the struggles they face. I relate to that and see a lot of myself in the neurotic, frustrated Lizzy. Yet this is also a film that keeps the audience at a considerable distance and shuffles along at a sleepy pace. That makes a movie that otherwise might've really compelled me a lot harder to get into, personally speaking. [Grade: B-]