Director Report Card: Kelly Reichardt (2016)

6. Certain Women

The majority of Kelly Reichardt's movies, at least those made after her comeback in 2006, had been set in her adopted home of the Pacific Northwest. Yet perhaps the director, like so many of her characters, was starting to feel a little trapped in her usual setting. For her sixth feature film, Reichardt would draw inspiration from the short story collection, “Both Ways Is the Only Way I Want It” by Maile Meloy. Meloy largely writes about her home of Montana, bringing Reichardt some new scenery. The resulting film, “Certain Women,” would be another critically acclaimed motion picture from the director, seeing her pet themes and favorite ideas continuing to evolve.

“Certain Women” tells three tales, adapted from Meloy's writing, each set in and around a Montanan small town. “Tome” follows Lauren Wells, an attorney struggling to make a client, Mr. Fuller, understand he can't win his lawsuit. After finally grasping that, he takes a security guard hostage, with Lauren stepping in as his negotiator. In “Native Sandstone,” a family – wife Gina, husband Ryan, and daughter Guthrie – live out in a tent while he builds them a new house. Gina and Ryan attempt to collect some sandstone from the yard of a near-by neighbor, an elderly man with dementia. In “Travis, B.,” ranch hand Jamie spontaneously steps into a night class teaching student law. There, she immediately forms an ambiguous bond with Beth Travis, the inexperienced teacher of the class.

Aside from the Montana setting and female protagonists, there's no direct collection between the three stories in “Certain Women.” However, certain ideas and stylistic touches recur throughout. The difficulty of communicating with people seems to concern each segment. Mr. Fuller's failing eyesight makes it difficult for him to read and his emotions often boil over. Gina and Ryan's neighbor, Albert, clearly doesn't seem to understand what is being said to him. In “Travis, B.,” Jamie and Beth long to say things to each other but neither can quite find the courage. Everyone could overcome their challenges, if only they were able to properly express themselves.

While almost all of Reichardt's films could possibly be described as containing feminist themes, “Certain Women” seems to be the first movie of her's to explicitly, directly address that idea. Something else that connects the stories is, in each one, men do not listen to the women in their lives. In “Tome,” Fuller only grasps his legal options after a man explains it to him, despite Lauren having told him the same thing multiple times. In “Native Sandstone,” Gina fears her husband undermines her authority with their daughter. In “Travis, B.,” Beth ends up in a position she's ill-suited for because someone – presumably a man – just sticks her in the role. “Certain Women” largely speaks to the frustration of being a woman, of living in a world where guys just naturally ignore your advice, options, and abilities.

What I found especially interesting about “Tome” is that it is a stand-off story without much danger. Even though Fuller has a gun and is holding a man hostage, he never has the intention of harming anyone. In fact, there's quite a bit of quiet humor here. Fuller has a civil conversation with his hostage, a Samoan man with a distant relation to the island's royal family. Once Lauren talks him into letting the man guy, Fuller frenziedly delivers a escape scheme to her... That doesn't take into account that there are cops on both sides of the building. Not only is Fuller not dangerous, he's not especially smart either. The drama of the story comes from whether Lauren can reach through his emotional denseness and make some headway with the loss and pain he's feeling.

And if anyone could do that, it would be a character played by Laura Dern. “Certain Women” came right in the middle of our cultural reevaluation of Dern as one of our greatest character actresses. It's an opinion Dern continues to prove here. She plays Lauren as a woman with a lot on her mind. We get a glimpse of a relationship with a boyfriend but it's not a big concern for her. She sticks to her principals, such as when she insist Fuller stop talking about violence or get kicked out of her car. Yet she's empathetic too, coming to him in an hour of need. Dern's ability to display empathy, warmth, but a get-it-done attitude all combine perfectly in this character.

Aside from her debut, not many of Kelly's movies can be described as “funny.” Poverty isn't hilarious, ya know? Yet there is a quiet humor to “Certain Women.” This is most apparent in “Native Sandstone.” It's a comedy of such thoughtfulness, that I'm not even sure if it is meant to be funny. It might just be my weird sense of humor but I think there are laughs to be had in Gina's everyday frustrations. Such as the growing pains she has with her sarcastic daughter. Or a husband, whose rascally side she, perhaps, once found far more charming. There's definitely some rueful laughter in her attempts to get through to the senile, easily confused Albert. (Which definitely fits the theme of the difficulty in communication.) None of these are gut-busting laughs but “Certain Women” captures the challenges of every day life. And everyday life is sometimes funny.

If these scenes contain humor, then they also contain sadness. The great Rene Auberjonois plays Albert. At first, he seems fairly cognizant. He speaks in clear, complete sentences. He describes memories with certainty. However, inconsistencies soon appear. He contradicts himself. Memories conflict. He repeats phrases and information. It's soon apparent that the man's mind has betrayed him. This is a quietly heartbreaking moment, showing the insidious way dementia can cripple once bright, thoughtful people. Reichardt employs no melodrama, accurately capturing this sad fact of life. The final, ambiguous moment of the segment suggests Albert doesn't even remember having the conversation.

In her third collaboration with Reichardt, Michelle Williams plays Gina. This is not as severe a role as Wendy or “Meek's Cutoff's” Emily. Williams doesn't brave homelessness or the perils of the frontier here. It shows that she's just as good when playing everyday emotions too. Williams shows Gina's frustrations quietly, with a stern look or an easily missed sigh. There's also a warmth, towards her family and the pain Albert is feeling. We're never quite sure of Gina's thoughts but Williams certainly let's us see the gears turning, however subtlety.

In Meloy's original “Travis, B.,” the plot concerns a man and a woman. Reichardt made the decision to make both parts female. Whether Beth or Jamie are out lesbians remains totally ambiguous. Their relationship is obviously flirtatious. Jamie shows a clear interest while Beth happily hugs her during a surprise horse ride. “Travis, B.” lets its probably-gay characters exist as a matter-of-fact. Instead, it's a beautifully withdrawn romance. The flirting comes across through smile-filled meals together, polite conversation, and kind gestures. The doubts and uncertainty, familiar to any new relationship, appears through off-screen actions and snap decisions. The grand gesture – we don't know if it worked, since Reichardt loves her open-ended send-offs – does not draw attention to itself. It's quiet, adorable, and utterly engrossing.

The titular “Travis, B.” is played by Kristen Stewart, an actress I'm still largely indifferent to. Her previous attempts to shed the “Twilight' stigma, and bring her star power to indie favorites, did not impress me. I will concede that she's pretty good here. Her stutter-y delivery is well suited to a character totally over-her-head, thrust into a situation she was not prepared for. She doesn't seem like a movie star but a normal person, riddled with doubts. Lily Gladstone, as Jamie, is even better. She's an ideal Reichardt actress, as she can convey a lot with just a quiet glance and is compelling to watch even while simply existing. The two have calm but complimenting chemistry, a big reason why the segment works as well as it does.

After trying out a more intimate style in “Night Moves, “ Reichardt's trademark naturalistic approach makes a big comeback here. Long scenes are devoted to Jamie going about her business on the ranch, the camera watching her tend to the horses and bail hay. (An adorable corgi keeps her company.) Much attention is paid to the winding forest back roads that leads to Albert's house. The snowy and rocky Montana countryside is paid so much attention, it deserves star billing. Once again, Reichardt is establishing a sense of place. This is an isolated, normal town and isolated, normal people live there. The softly falling snow, mountains, and trees certainly add tot he film's likably quiet atmosphere... Even if we could've used one less ranching montage.

“Certain Women” would become Reichardt's most financially successful film yet. Meaning it still only grossed a little over a million dollars. Critics – not to mention Dern and Stewart's adoring fans – would be enthusiastic, many declaring it one of the best films of the year. I wouldn't go that far. “Certain Women” is intentionally minor, laid-back in its presentation and humble in its goals. Yet it's certainly an engrossing, wonderfully made collection of stories with some strong performances and that unforgettable atmosphere. Lastly, Reichardt dedicates the film to the memory of the real life Lucy, in case you were wondering if this one was going to make you cry or not. [Grade: B]