Movie Review – Wendy and Lucy

Wendy and Lucy (2009)
Written by Jon Raymond & Kelly Reichardt
Directed by Kelly Reichardt

I’ve said it before here, and it seems to be an evergreen statement, but shit in the States looks fucking bad, folks. I got out in September 2021, so my experience is through what I read online (always with a grain of salt), chatting with people back there, and my lifelong pursuit of educating myself on the fundamental structures of our societies. Over half of currently homeless Americans are over the age of 50, yet you wouldn’t know it from the Boomers still clinging on to their spoils as they slip further between their fingers. Capitalism is a hell of a drug. I consider myself very lucky that I am where I am and have what I have. It’s not a fortune, but I can breathe reasonably easily daily. I find it highly upsetting that so many cannot do the same, certainly, those I know who have busted their asses harder than me. It serves to underline capitalism’s great contradiction: work hard, and you will be rewarded. 

Despite the many lies regarding bootstraps, intergenerational poverty is real, especially when you break things down by racial demographics. As the wage gap increases, that is becoming an even more dire threat to the well-being of millions. Get diagnosed with a significant illness, and you could easily see your life savings go up in flames as insurance companies argue that they shouldn’t have to cover needed treatments. This leads to the desperate American hunger for money at all times. I firmly believe most people are good and don’t wish to harm others, but systems around them can ratchet up the desperation and drive people to commit acts they might not normally do under better conditions. 

So why did I pick Wendy and Lucy to start this series? Well, it’s about a young woman, Wendy (Michelle Williams), who is effectively homeless. She left Indiana, living with her sister, with plans to move to Alaska and work in a cannery. When the film starts, Wendy finds herself stranded in a small Oregon town when her car breaks down. She attempts to shoplift some food as her cash is low, and the car will take almost every cent but gets caught, causing Wendy to become separated from her beloved dog, Lucy. When she’s finally released after paying a hefty fine, Wendy discovers Lucy missing from where she tied her up outside the grocery store. 

You are going to feel sad at the end of this movie. It’s just how things are going to go. I didn’t realize this was a film about a person and their dog, and once that clicked in, I felt a palpable sense of dread. There’s not much in a movie that affects me like that, but anytime a story focuses on a relationship between a human & an animal, I start having to look away from the screen when it “gets too blurry.” Humans discount our status as animals way too often and try to frame the natural world as a violent, deadly place. Yeah, it can be. But there is also a lot of symbiosis, animals forming mutually beneficial bonds between species. I think humans & dogs have that kind of connection. A dog may not understand every nuanced aspect of the human psyche, but they show tremendous love to those they’ve bonded with. 

Like all of Reichardt’s work, the film is structurally straightforward. I won’t say simple, but I don’t think anyone will get lost in the plot of Wendy and Lucy. The complexity comes from the human connections and emotional toll on the central character. Michelle Wiliams is at her best when she’s in a Reichardt film. The closest I’ve seen her to giving this naturalistic, humane performance would be Derek Cianfrance’s Blue Valentine. The actress does a lot of work before shooting, constructing her characters and their backstories, thinking about how they engage with the world and other people. This means that when the cameras start rolling, we are deceived into believing what happens on screen is effortless. Williams is busting her ass, and we know this because we forget that it is her, she is Wendy. 

This film is about losing what you have, then losing more, and simply pushing ahead because you don’t have many options. Reichardt’s America is a quiet place with occasional upsetting moments. Those might be an overzealous stock boy who thinks by shirking empathy for adherence to the rules, he will be rewarded or being jolted awake in the night by a mentally unwell homeless person making rambling threats. There’s little you can do in these situations. Wendy knows having so little money and being in a strange place makes her intensely vulnerable. But there are also good people here. The CVS security guard starts out being a rule follower; he tells Wendy she has to move her car out of the parking lot. Yet, we see his pained eyes, and he reaches out as he can, offering his cell phone & checking up on Wendy even on his day off. 

We’re being told there’s a loneliness epidemic in the States. Even the U.S. attorney general has put forth rather feckless attempts to do much about it. The current efforts to address this problem all fail to recognize a root cause: capitalism. So much of how we interact with society and others is through commerce. We go out to eat with friends or to see a movie. Some people love attending live music venues, which are becoming increasingly expensive. Shopping is a popular pastime for many. If you are forced to count every last cent you have, connecting with others is very difficult in a highly capitalist society. 

Wendy is painfully isolated, and Reichardt chooses not to explicate that any further. That was the right choice. We didn’t need to hear Wendy’s backstory for the audience to empathize with her. That tremendously overwhelming loneliness she feels is something we have all felt to some extent; maybe we’re still feeling it. The end of the film leaves her having to make a terrible choice. Wendy chooses something that reflects a deep compassion that will break your heart. It’s one of the most complex decisions she’s probably ever had to make, leaving her even more alone than when she started.

Yet, in that choice is a sense of empowerment. Wendy doesn’t focus on herself but on what is best for another. That hurts her. It doesn’t kill her. The path forward is still murky and fraught with danger. But it showcases how, for someone with so little materially, Wendy has abundant love within her. Despite all the ways the world has beaten her down, taken from her, and left her alone, Wendy refuses to abandon love as her guiding principle. It is not in her adherence to some hyper-individualistic hunger that keeps this young woman going, but a commitment to compassion. 

The audience will never know if Wendy makes it, but that aligns with many of Reichardt’s protagonists. The movie has to stop despite the sense that the story is continuing onward. Wendy may make it to Alaska and get that job. Maybe she’ll stop somewhere else and start a life there. Perhaps she’ll turn back and go home to Indiana. Maybe she’ll get sick. Maybe she’ll be attacked. Maybe she’ll die. That’s all of life for us, though. Every day is a “maybe.” We can look at that and choose to be filled with nothing but want and see how many other people we can fuck over on our way to the grave. That is a choice a lot of people make. Or, we could make those whose journeys intersect with our own have a moment of communion and extend what we can to them. 

Growing up, I had parents who lived by the principle that anyone looking for a handout was lazy and probably lying about how they would use the money. It shouldn’t surprise you to know my parents don’t really have strong friendships with anyone. They devoted their lives to becoming lonelier, and it is something that lingered with me. My wife is undoubtedly my best friend, but I think about how my parents’ mindset left me without any other solid and long-lasting friendships. At 42, I don’t know how to change that, but I have come to understand that we need each other. There is only one planet and one life for each of us; we won’t know what lies beyond that until we get there. So, why does our world feel so unkind & angry all the time?