Showing Up

After debuting a year ago at the Cannes Film Festival in 2022, Kelly Reichardt’s eighth feature titled Showing Up finally gets its North American release. It stars frequent collaborator Michelle Williams, fresh off her Oscar nomination in The Fabelmans, in this emotionally restrained drama about a middle-aged woman sculptor named Lizzie, who’s attempting to complete a collection of clay figures for an upcoming gallery show in the outskirts of Portland.

In her first film since the highly acclaimed First Cow, co-writer-director Reichardt pivots away from her small-scale period filmmaking and returns to a more personal project about artistry and rooted anxieties with firsthand observations about the isolations of being a talented artist. Reichardt has always had a gift for minimal insights, once again providing moments of sincerity and authenticity in a narrative that would appear to have such low stakes on the outside. However, at its core, there is a quiet devastation that lingers in the film about loneliness, human disconnect, and small tensions that build up from the everyday humdrum.

Courtesy A24 Films 

Williams has always been adept at playing restrained roles in Reichardt films; her characters are ordinary people getting by, and it’s always the little details that make the material more vivid. It’s the small characterizations in Lizzie’s life that end up being highly engaging, like being faced with distractions after attempting to finish artwork on projects on a personal day after she’s left caring for a pigeon that flies into her rented home or going days end without having hot water, and noticing how everyone in Lizzie’s circle is getting some form of recognition despite putting in far less hard work and devotion than she does. Williams may have played the artist type before in many films, but she’s always felt the most apprehensive about her work. Of course, it’s outside forces affecting the people she cares about the most that bring her disquietude. She’s concerned over her younger brother’s shut-in lifestyle and mental well-being, and Lizzie feels detached from her mother, Jean (Maryann Plunkett), for whom she is also the boss at the college newspaper. She worries about her father, Bill (Judd Hirsh), being taken advantage of by a pair of bohemian lodgers staying in his home from Canada. On top of that, her hot water heater fails to work as her old classmate, friend, and now landlord, Jo (Hong Chau), continues to prolong the repair on it.

Lizzie is very determined to finish her figures for her art-gallery—one that doesn’t have any competition or big art collectors, gallery owners, or even art critics. She is preparing a public display where mostly just her friends, family, and co-workers will attend the event. At its core, it’s a really evocative study on self-fulfillment in the art world and just how much distraction and distress an artist must endure in attempting to build up their framework. Reichardt also examines how the creative process is an internal experience where the final artwork more often than not ends up being shared collectively with our peers as any type of notoriety outside the local paper is often unattainable. Reichardt also shows how the process of creativity is often interrupted by our daily encounters as Lizzie drifts in and out of working on her sculptures in her garage as she finds herself in-and-out of various homes and places as she faces muted quarrels with her family and Jo.

Courtesy A24 Films

The brilliance of Showing Up is how Reichardt examines just how much perturbation artists can bring to the psyche, especially under deadlines. Reichardt brings her own insights as an artist and teacher to the film from her experiences at Bard College. Most filmmakers must have another job to supplement their income as they wait for their next project, and it’s not like Reichardt has Hollywood budgets, but her sharp perceptions of the art world make her film feel more personalized. Reichardt doesn’t observe more than she makes commentary, and she reserves judgment on art and communities. However, her poetic eye and frequent cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt (First Cow, Certain Women) capture some fondness for the power of creativity in a visually arresting shot of Lizzie painting and molding a figure’s lower arms in one- long, unbroken, static over-the-shoulder shot that channels the visually sublime beauty of the late Chantal Akerman.

Showing Up is a film of many sublime moments. The exchanges and conversations between Lizzie and Jo hold a lot of subtle tension. There is certainly a past between them. Perhaps they were romantically involved, or their friendship was undermined by a romantic interest. Regardless, there is something beneath the surface that keeps Lizzie irritated as Jo keeps extending the water repair. One subplot I especially like in the film involves a wounded pigeon that accidently flies into Lizzie’s bathroom, where she discovers her cat clawing at the pigeon during late hours. Lizzie lets the pigeon loose, only for Jo to discover the bird the next day in her yard as it becomes a new type of pet for her as she awaits its wing to heal. The pigeon works well as a metaphor, almost like a remedy for Lizzie’s angst, as the pigeon ends up playing a pivotal role in a very rewarding payoff. Both Williams and Chau, fresh off their Oscar nominations, are terrific on screen together.

Courtesy A24 Films