Wendy and Lucy (review)

The first great joy of this tart little portrait is Michelle Williams’s (I’m Not There) achingly contradictory performance as Wendy, who is at once a basket case of wistful loneliness and a model of determination, even as it sometimes leads her astray. But it’s difficult to condemn even the one less-than-wise choice she makes -- one that sets in motion what looks to be a tragedy in the making -- borne as it is out of desperation and hopelessness. She is doing the best she can with the very slim hand she was dealt, and the Wendy hardness behind Williams’s pixie face is deeply affecting.

The second great joy is director Kelly Reichardt’s (Old Joy) talent for bringing something profound to the smallest acts and the fewest words -- some kind, some not so much -- of her naturalistic cast. (Character actor Will Patton [A Mighty Heart] is the only familiar face among the small roster of unknowns.) Reichardt, who wrote the script with Jonathan Raymond, has a pensive eye that can turn something so simple as the offer of a handful of cash or the stubbornness of righteous youth into quietly striking moments that whisper volumes about social connection (or lack thereof), compassion (or lack thereof), and generosity (or lack thereof).

Wendy and Lucy lacks nothing, though: it’s a deceptively easy, effortlessly lovely film.