‘Showing Up’ NYFF 2022 Review: Kelly Reichardt and Michelle Williams Capture The Throes of Artistic Insecurity and Stagnation

The life of an artist is messy. The life of a less-than-successful artist is even messier. The thrill of creation and inspiration can often be subdued by an almost ineffable melancholy, the inability to be fully present in a life that is already elusive. Add that to problems wholly outside of your art and it can often feel like you’re stuck in place. Leave it to Kelly Reichardt, the queen of slow cinema and a master hypnotist with a camera, to capture this malaise more beautifully and more resonantly than any filmmaker prior.

Moving at a meditative speed, one could describe Showing Up as a film in which “nothing happens.” This is a dull, often inaccurate criticism of slow cinema and of the film itself––many subtle developments happen throughout the story, of course––but the spirit behind that criticism actually makes for the right atmosphere here. Showing Up recognizes that artistic stagnation can make plenty happening feel like nothing is.

In her fourth collaboration with actress Michelle Williams, Showing Up presents a very specific artist in her own context that still feels universal for any struggling creative. Lizzy (Williams) is a young ceramist preparing for her latest exhibition at a local gallery in Portland. By day, she works as an office assistant for the arts school from which she graduated, answering to her mother (Maryann Plunkett) as her boss. By night, she works tirelessly on her sculptures, yet takes little visible pride in her artwork. She is so stuck in the process, rushing to work under a tight deadline, that it feels like the joy of it all has been subdued. Whether it’s as she is physically molding or just when receiving a casual but genuine compliment, Williams plays the character intentionally reserved and cold, embodying a hardened, insecure artist.

One source of this insecurity is Jo (Hong Chau), her neighbor, landlord, and a fellow artist. In many ways, Jo is what Lizzy isn’t: praised for her artwork, vibrantly expressive through large exhibitions, and beloved by many members of her community with a thriving social life. It doesn’t help that Jo, in preparation for her own upcoming exhibition, will not fix Lizzy’s water heater despite her incessant requests. Days without a proper shower can do a lot to a person, but there is a gnawing sense that Lizzy is letting imposter syndrome win, fabricating a rivalry out of resentment. When Jo tasks Lizzy with taking care of an injured pigeon (a pigeon Lizzy’s cat had mauled the evening prior), this distraction to her work only exacerbates the situation.

It’s easy to look at Lizzy’s insociable, introverted personality as unlikable, but it’s far more complex than that. Outside of her artwork, Lizzy comes from a fractured family. Her parents have long been separated, her father (Judd Hirsch) living locally as a retired former artist. Despite being supportive of Lizzy’s work, there’s little validation to be found in his failures, failures often noted by her mother. But the real center of the despair is Lizzy’s brother, Sean (John Magaro, his second collaboration with Reichardt following First Cow). Sean is mentally unwell, though Reichardt respectfully does not put a label on his condition, which in turn makes it all the more tragic. Lizzy spends much of her emotional energy worrying about him, leaving little time for her to have any bandwidth for herself or her work.

All of these organic story details paint an immersive, dynamic portrait of our main character. Lizzy cannot help inheriting family trauma, nor can she help her own levels of talent. But she could probably engage more in a conversation or two. This combination of shortcomings and circumstances are exactly the kind of concoction that weighs all of us down. It can feel impossible to escape it sometimes, but Showing Up finds the value in persevering and finding the pockets of joy and life in the struggle, perhaps even rehabilitation in the face of it. The film isn’t interested in framing the story around a strict moral code, but as the story quietly progresses (hint: the pigeon plays a surprisingly important role), there is a hope amidst the doldrum.

The viewing experience itself fits this sentiment, as Reichardt has once again visually crafted a deeply comforting, perfectly minimalist experience. The long, lingering shots allow us to thoroughly live in the environments, and the tranquil camera movements almost feel like floating. The filmmaker has always been a master at capturing rural communities with a natural, quiet charm, and this film is no different. Along with gorgeous scoring and strong production design (featuring actual sculptures by Portland artist Cynthia Lahti), this is yet another marvelous world from a director who, several films into her career, is at the top of her game. 

Despite our obsession with high-octane thrillers and big blockbusters, it’s nice to be able to walk into a Kelly Reichardt production and enter a movie knowing you’re not in for any surprises. In fact, any struggling artist will likely be absorbed by Reichardt’s aesthetic, the visual equivalent of a warm, much-needed hug. Sometimes, that’s all you need to make it to your next deadline.

Showing Up had its North American premiere in the Main Slate section of New York Film Festival 2022. The film is scheduled to be released by A24 in 2023. 

Director: Kelly Reichardt

Writers: Kelly Reichardt & Jonathan Raymond

Rated: R

Runtime: 108m