There are so many things to love about Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig’s poignant coming-of-age comedy, and its opening scene is one of them. Lady Bird, the titular character, and her mother are driving down a sun-streaked highway, listening to Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath being read on the radio. As the novel concludes, we see tears in both characters’ eyes as they absorb the final lines together. It’s a tender, understated scene, one that so many directors would ruin by dwelling upon for too long. Yet Gerwig refuses to stray from the pace of reality. Within minutes, Lady Bird and her mother have gotten into a heated argument, one that doesn’t end too well.
Set in the early 2000s, Lady Bird follows Christine McPherson, a high school senior living in small-town Sacramento, who insists that her given name is Lady Bird (“given to me, by me”). Strong-willed brash, and a feminist, with a penchant for delivering sharp sarcasms, Lady Bird is an endearing character whose colorful personality both pushes her forward and holds her back as she stumbles through her senior year.
Lady Bird is not afraid to dream. Unfortunately, this leaves her in a tough relationship with her pragmatic, equally stubborn mother, a relationship which takes the center stage in Lady Bird. We often see mother-daughter relationships in films succumb to stereotypes, yet Lady Bird puts them all to shame. It is a movie of many dimensions: unbearably sad at times, incredibly funny at others, shockingly honest either way. We see Lady Bird and her mother fight mercilessly, then crawl back to each other for comfort, then fight even more. They dig deep to find each other’s weaknesses, but fail to recognize their own. In one powerful scene, Lady Bird’s mother blindly urges her daughter to be the best version of herself, to which Lady Bird quips, “But what if this is the best version?”
At the same time, Lady Bird is navigating the ups and downs of her Catholic high school, friendship, and romance. Once again, Lady Bird veers away from stereotypes, choosing instead to stay true to its high school roots. It can be hilarious: Lady Bird snacks on stolen communion wafers, tries her hand at theater, and nearly gets caught trying to change her abysmal math grade. It can be discouraging: she copes with two consecutive romantic disappointments, deals with college rejections, and loses some of her closest friends. She slips, she stumbles, and just when we think she’s on the right path, she falls again. But either way, Lady Bird learns a thing or two about life as she charges on.
Lady Bird is the sum of its incredible parts, that it’s hard to choose just one. There’s the stunning cinematography, an homage to director Greta Gerwig’s sunny hometown. There’s the star-studded , led by Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalf as Lady Bird and her mother respectively, who are flanked by a strong supporting ensemble with the likes of Tracy Letts, Lucas Hedges, and Timothée Chalamet. But most importantly, Lady Bird is one of those rare films that viewers can connect to with all parts of their hearts: they will laugh, cry, and, most importantly, reminisce as they follow Lady Bird on her journey toward adulthood.
Lydia Ying
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| (via National Review) |
Set in the early 2000s, Lady Bird follows Christine McPherson, a high school senior living in small-town Sacramento, who insists that her given name is Lady Bird (“given to me, by me”). Strong-willed brash, and a feminist, with a penchant for delivering sharp sarcasms, Lady Bird is an endearing character whose colorful personality both pushes her forward and holds her back as she stumbles through her senior year.
Lady Bird is not afraid to dream. Unfortunately, this leaves her in a tough relationship with her pragmatic, equally stubborn mother, a relationship which takes the center stage in Lady Bird. We often see mother-daughter relationships in films succumb to stereotypes, yet Lady Bird puts them all to shame. It is a movie of many dimensions: unbearably sad at times, incredibly funny at others, shockingly honest either way. We see Lady Bird and her mother fight mercilessly, then crawl back to each other for comfort, then fight even more. They dig deep to find each other’s weaknesses, but fail to recognize their own. In one powerful scene, Lady Bird’s mother blindly urges her daughter to be the best version of herself, to which Lady Bird quips, “But what if this is the best version?”
At the same time, Lady Bird is navigating the ups and downs of her Catholic high school, friendship, and romance. Once again, Lady Bird veers away from stereotypes, choosing instead to stay true to its high school roots. It can be hilarious: Lady Bird snacks on stolen communion wafers, tries her hand at theater, and nearly gets caught trying to change her abysmal math grade. It can be discouraging: she copes with two consecutive romantic disappointments, deals with college rejections, and loses some of her closest friends. She slips, she stumbles, and just when we think she’s on the right path, she falls again. But either way, Lady Bird learns a thing or two about life as she charges on.
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| (via New York Times) |
Lady Bird is the sum of its incredible parts, that it’s hard to choose just one. There’s the stunning cinematography, an homage to director Greta Gerwig’s sunny hometown. There’s the star-studded , led by Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalf as Lady Bird and her mother respectively, who are flanked by a strong supporting ensemble with the likes of Tracy Letts, Lucas Hedges, and Timothée Chalamet. But most importantly, Lady Bird is one of those rare films that viewers can connect to with all parts of their hearts: they will laugh, cry, and, most importantly, reminisce as they follow Lady Bird on her journey toward adulthood.
Lydia Ying
