Kelly Reichardt’s Wendy and Lucy was one of the indie hits of the 2008 festival circuit, ever since it premiered in Cannes. Almost a year later, it has finally hit Australian screens at a time when the impact of the credit crunch has given the story added poignancy.
Wendy and Lucy is a modest film with very old-fashioned feel to it, held together by a strong central performance from Michelle Williams as a young woman out of options and very nearly out of money. We know virtually nothing about her, or how she came to be so destitute, but Williams plays Wendy with a quiet dignity and desperate stoicism that makes the 80 minutes we spend with her unforgettable. In any other year her performance would have garnered Oscar attention, but there\'s generally only room for one indie breakout in the nominations and this year that honour went to Frozen River\'s Melissa Leo.
Wendy and Lucy is a modest film with very old-fashioned feel to it, held together by a strong central performance from Michelle Williams as a young woman out of options and very nearly out of money. We know virtually nothing about her, or how she came to be so destitute, but Williams plays Wendy with a quiet dignity and desperate stoicism that makes the 80 minutes we spend with her unforgettable. In any other year her performance would have garnered Oscar attention, but there\'s generally only room for one indie breakout in the nominations and this year that honour went to Frozen River\'s Melissa Leo.
When we meet Wendy, she’s living out of her car somewhere in Oregon, en route to Alaska, having hatched a plan to make a living working at a cannery. You don\'t get the sense that she has much experience in the field; she just hears that someone’s hiring, so that’s enough reason to go there. Alaska is a very long way to go for a job you don’t know you’ll get, but it’s a safe bet that the underlying point of the exercise is to clock up as much distance as possible between where she’s been and where she’s going.
Her plans hit a snag when the car blows a head gasket and she is waylaid for several days, with scarcely enough funds to cover the impromptu repairs. She has one dependent, a golden retriever named Lucy, and her devotion to the dog is unwavering. Though she’s rake-thin and is clearly in need of a good meal, Wendy sees to it that Lucy gets fed even if it means she has to go without.
Two phone calls to an indifferent sister are the only brief hints at her past but whatever circumstances caused her situation, it’s clear that getting out of it will be a solo effort. That’s easier said than done, since Wendy doesn’t harbour an innate survival instinct; she lacks street smarts and in her naiveté, succumbs to traps for young players that a seasoned drifter would know to avoid, such as shoplifting at a small grocery store. Naturally, she gets spotted by an officious cashier who is eager to enforce Store Policy and make an example of her. She is slapped with a hefty fine and detained for several hours at the police station. When she finally returns, her dog is missing.
The plot is incidental but the remainder of the film is given over to Wendy’s efforts to recover Lucy, get her car fixed, and keep as low a profile as possible.
Wendy and Lucy is an old-school indie portrait of a woman in a desperate situation. It’s quiet – virtually silent in parts – and at just 80 minutes, it makes its point without overstating it.
