Visual artists inevitably have a relationship with time that is out of step with the rest of the world. Not only is creation a long process, but artists’ careers can also change at seemingly innocuous moments for ordinary mortals.
The dramatic comedy Show-Up, by Kelly Reichardt, perfectly reflects this singular dynamic, as much by its form as by its screenplay. His faithful collaborator, Michelle Williams, embodies Lizzy, a ceramist deeply distressed at the approach of her solo exhibition. Even if it only attracts a small crowd and only interests its hermetic milieu, the exhibition could, it seems, propel its career.
As in almost all of Reichardt’s films, the story is set in Oregon. It is located in this case in Portland, the city of adoption of the director, emblem par excellence of Grano-hipster-Artistic of the American West Coast.
Having grown up in a family of local artists, Lizzy evolves in a very particular environment, somewhere between her late twenties and mid-thirties. We see her working in an eccentric art school where they give “breathing” lessons in order to stimulate creativity, take care as best they can of her almost psychotic brother neglected by his mother or even maintain a relationship with love-hate with his owner who is also his neighbor, one of his only friends, also an artist.
A heroine not always endearing
Since the filmmaker is used to staging ambitious fables about American identity, as in her wonderful historical films Meek’s Cutoff (The last track2010) and First Cow (2019), down-to-earth storyand the nonchalant humor of Showing Up could destabilize, from the outset, the regulars of his cinema.
However, we quickly see how the slow and stripped style – especially in the natural lighting and dull colors – of the director perfectly marries this adorable story of an artist in search of herself. Reichardt, who has always distinguished herself from popular American cinema, impetuous and moralizing, takes a long time to make us love Lizzy, who at first sight seems unsympathetic.
Desperate because she hasn’t had hot water at home for two weeks and anxious at the idea of missing out on one of the pieces she has to present at her exhibition, her bitterness is contagious at first. But, little by little, very slowly, we become attached to her.
In the style of independent films of the type mumblecorea genre which does not correspond to Reichardt’s cinema, but which Show-Up becomes somewhat impregnated, unusual events that could seem benign disturb the established order and transform the way we look at the protagonist.
A pigeon at the opening
The most charming of them comes when Lizzy’s owner stubbornly saves a pigeon her cat has injured. The two women share custody of the bird until it can fly again. Unlike its owner, who often infuriates Lizzy with her mannerisms and competitive spirit, the pigeon eventually appeases Lizzy. He even follows her until her opening, at the very end.
With a precise distance and a tasty sense of humor, Reichardt depicts all the absurdity of an academic artistic milieu that is looking for itself, without however launching into great cerebral speeches as several others have done before her. .
Few things “happen” in Show-Up, and even though Lizzy’s exposition is supposed to be defining, the film only very subtly hints at it. We rather have the impression of a slice of life which nevertheless reveals great things about the characters, about human nature.
Instead of working on slowness with a certain heaviness and a calculated aesthetic like the proponents of slow cinemaof which pacification (Albert Serra, 2022) is one of the brightest recent examples, Kelly Reichardt has wisely opted for a light and bright humor. She thus signs, simultaneously, a pretty love letter and a snub to her artist friends.