Review: Lady Bird (2017).

Lady Bird (2017). Written and Directed by Greta Gerwig.

[Saoirse Ronan, Laurie Metcalf, Tracy Letts].

This will be my fourth draft of this film review. Each time I attempt to put this into words, I am either overcome with emotional turmoil or the fear of underselling the incredible storytelling that is Lady Bird.

So, I’m going to try to speak from experience, perhaps review Lady Bird from the eyes of someone who is going through the same confusion that Christine (Lady Bird) experiences.

Lady Bird is a classic coming-of-age film, written by one of my favourite directors, Greta Gerwig, and follows the life of Christine, a senior attending a catholic high school and in the process of figuring out what her next step will be after graduation.

The story is set in Sacramento, California. This location works to reinforce the suffocation Christine feels as she tries to reason with the limitations of her home town- certain that she is a big fish- needing to be surrounded by ‘cultured’ people, new and broader perspectives, and most importantly, a blank slate.

Throughout Lady Bird, Christine repeats the notion of entrapment, blaming the stability and routine that is Sacramento for limiting her growth and evolution.

The landscape in Lady Bird is important as it creates a repetition of everyday life, often repeating locations, and this keeps the viewer suspended in the same circumstances as Christine, understanding her frustrations as her desire to evolve is suppressed by the world around her staying the same.

Christine feels like she has outgrown her hometown, so much so that her impatience only increases as the school year progresses, trying to garner attention and express herself by signing up for school activities and making friends with the popular crowd.

She begins to lash out at the people closest to her- seeing them as a symbol of the entrapment of her existence. Everyone around her embraces stability, following routines and creating roots which only frustrates Christine more; it seems that she is the only one dissatisfied with her environment.

Christine’s main objective is to study the arts at a university on the east coast. Though it is made abundantly clear that her parents are unable to financially provide, she is only further encouraged to find a way to make her dreams a reality.

Her rocky relationship with her mother, Marion, ebbs and flows throughout. Marion is Christines biggest roadblock. Christine is in control of her grades, passions, interests and relationships, but without the approval and support of her Marion, she believes that her dreams are unattainable.

Lady Bird is a love letter to mothers and daughters. Refusing to sugarcoat the turmoil and displeasure that occurs in this type of dynamic- specifically during the formative years, when daughters are finding their voices, and mothers are finding their place in their daughters' futures.

Christine and Marion butt heads constantly, their conversations easily turn sour, confrontational, and insulting. Christine disagrees with Marion's views of the world and the way she chooses to interact with it. Marion thinks Christine is being dramatic, unrealistic, ungrateful, and offensive when it comes to the way she has been raised and what she has been provided with.

But, each disagreement is sweetened by tender moments, where Christine and Marion can pause in a moment of love

and fondness- though this usually occurs when they one of them is not present, such as when Christine defends Marion being called scary by a friend and when Marion stays up all night to sew a dress for Christine’s dance.

They are lacking a key component to successful communication and cannot understand that they are individual people. Christine is growing up and becoming herself, which is frightening for Marion; watching your child grow is both a blessing and a curse. The little girl who once adored and fussed over her mother has started to form separate opinions, questioning the everything and everyone around her.

Teenage angst causes these conversations to be emotionally charged, often short-tempered, snippy and defensive. In the face of a loud confrontation, Marion feels she has no option but to match Christine's energy, feeding into the snappiness and stooping to her level.

There is no clear conclusion or conflict resolution to the disconnected relationship between Christine and Marion, but, when Christine leaves for the east coast, there is hope for a new, healthy, and more realistic relationship to form.

Greta mentions that when you ask a person about their relationship with their father, they will either say something positive or negative. But when asked about their relationship with their mother, there simply isn’t one word that could sum up the complexity and intricacy that is motherhood.

Marion is going through her own evolution, forced to come to terms with the lack of influence and control she currently has in Christine’s life. Punishing and icing Christine out only push her further away. Marion has to accept that even though this isn’t the life she had planned for Christine, her daughter is a creative and charismatic individual who deserves the chance to build a foundation of her own.

To get what she wants, Christine disobeys Marion's wishes and applies for an out-of-state university. Expecting some form of repercussion, Christine is still guttered when Marion chooses to give her the silent treatment moving forward. In these moments, Christine begins to see what an integral role Marion plays in her life. Even though their discourse is frustrating, she desires that attention from Marion.

Marion writes many notes to Christine, never sharing them. She doesn’t know where to start, how to express the way she feels for her daughter- that it goes beyond surface fondness. Christine knows that Marion loves her, but doesn’t particularly like her, and that is true- for now- causing Christine to feel indebted to Marion for being a burden.

Marion wants nothing more than to rekindle the emotions of the past but has to find acceptance that she has raised her daughter to confidently express and embrace herself. It’s scary to know things are changing and that her daughter no longer sees her through rose-tinted lenses.

Is Marion the kind of person Christine will like? Will she be good enough- interesting enough- to fit into the world Christine is curating for herself?

Marion drops Christine off at the airport but refuses to get out of the car. As she begins driving away, Marion takes a moment to view the scenery of Sacramento, reflecting on the many memories she shares with Christine.

Her disappointment and hurt are nothing compared to the importance of loving Christine. So, with haste, Marion turns around and rushes into the terminal. But she has missed her chance. Christine is already gone. Marion cries- we all cry- but Christine’s dad hugs Marion and reassures her, “She’ll come back.”

And it is only when Christine has pushed herself and has successfully moved across the country that she can properly reflect and begin to try to understand her mother. In the final scene, Christine calls her Marion but reaches her voicemail; the message Christine sends lack the words ‘you weren’t wrong’, but she makes up for it in her own way.

Christine asks if Marion remembers the first time she drove through Sacramento and wonders if she felt emotional. Christine says she did. She says that driving through the neighbourhoods and streets of her hometown felt like a form of growing up.

The place she has lived in has remained stable and familiar, and it always will. It once felt like that stability was a threat to Christine, but she finally understands that Sacramento will always be her home and the love she has for it runs so deep. It will always be there when she returns, just as her mom and dad will be.

When given the chance to be her complete self, Christine realises that her world doesn’t magically shift and become bigger and brighter. She is now a little fish in a city of people who have had the opportunity to develop and express themselves for much longer than she has. Her journey of exploration has just begun, and unlike before, she is all alone.

The idea of home can be both comforting and limiting- encouraging and forcing us to grow. What we love can often become something we resent- consistent and certain, never changing and always a base to return to. Loving is complex, it asks for concession, compassion and a willingness to accept one another for who we are, and who we aren’t.

This allows us to fully love ourselves, and it is clear that the biggest thing keeping

Christine from fully embracing her individuality is the fear that the most important person in her life- her mother- will not accept her for who she truly is.

To me, motherhood is unfathomable, but I have a mother, and I feel so many things for her all at once. Our love is complicated and ever-changing, perhaps as we grow, that will persist, it is hard to accept the differences in one another, but the desire to seek out understanding is all we can do. Finding a middle ground is a challenge, feeling bound by your hometown creates resistance.

I often fall into this trap- stir-crazy that the world around me only deepens its roots, fearful that if I don’t run now I will never have the chance.

But dismissing the place I come from only hurts more, I am who I am because of the city I grew up in and the people who are creating their homes around me. One day this resentment will turn to fondness, and how wonderfully hopeful is that?

10/10.

“Don’t you think maybe they are the same thing? Love and attention?”

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