
The first half of this tight 84 minute character-driven
movie introduces us to the dramatis personae and provides the setup. There are
two main characters, but a handful of other new and old friends, neighbors and
even a nemesis or two to make things interesting. The second half starts as a
road trip and winds up with a memorable screwball-inspired set piece in an
upscale home in Greenwich Connecticut.
Gerwig plays a young 30-year-old millennial named Brooke - a
character with issues not unlike Frances' in that she clearly has yet to
"grow up" and find her footing.
But to Gerwig’s credit, Brooke does not look, sound or act like
Frances. She is a new and indelible
creation: a quirky, funny, beguiling girl/woman, with a bold, self-assured
personality – an act, actually, which masks vulnerability and self doubt. Many of Brooke’s friends and contemporaries
have married, perhaps moved to the suburbs, taken responsible jobs, are having
babies, and generally behaving more and more like grown-ups, while she lives
gypsy-like in an unauthorized (i.e. illegal) funky-stylish New York loft, may
or may not have a boyfriend (he’s abroad), and holds down the occasional
part-time gig but has no career. All of
this weighs on her. On the flipside, Brooke is creative, energetic, outspoken,
vivacious to the point of effervescence, and full of life.

Brooke has plans to open a fabulous, yet cozy
gathering-place sort of restaurant in trendy Brooklyn. A place where the food
takes you back to your childhood, a comfortable place where people from the
neighborhood want to hang out because it feels like home, a place where the
waitstaff mingles with the customers, a warm and fuzzy place where you can
bring your babies or your pets, get your hair cut … what? Anyway, Brooke has
investors, and for once in her life she's determined to follow through with one
of her brilliant ideas and make this happen.
The problem is, one of the investors drops out, and Brooke
needs to raise a bunch of money fast. What to do? Ask a psychic, of course.
This leads to the Greenwich roadtrip, which in turn ushers in Baumbach and
Gerwig’s screwball comedy homage. Brooke
needs to appeal for dough to her very rich former beau, Dylan, while
confronting Mamie-Claire, Dylan’s wife and Brooke’s former BFF (who swiped not
only her boyfriend but Brooke’s cats and a lucrative business idea, too, and is
now her “nemesis”). Tracy comes along for moral support, along with her friend,
Tony (because he has a car), shadowed by his paranoid girlfriend, Nicolette.
Then there's Mamie-Claire’s very pregnant friend Karen, whose husband has
forgotten to pick her up after the literary club meeting, and Harold, a
resentful neighbor, popping in for a house tour. In short, a delightful
confusion of characters. Everyone’s got an agenda, everyone has something to
say, and the dialogue flies along.
While not as completely silly or madcap as some of the
classics, such as Bringing up Baby (1938) or His Gal Friday (1940) - the finale is perhaps closer to Palm
Beach Story (1942) or Twentieth Century (1934) in tone - Mistress America manages to use the
exquisite chaos of the Greenwich scenes to seriously delve a little, revealing
a bit more of Brooke behind her masks,
as well as a deeper understanding of Tracy, who is less of a baby than she may
have appeared. There is some moralizing about the ethics of authors appropriating
the persona of people they know for their art, but this is less interesting
than just getting to know these people.

But my, is she ever quotable! My favorite [to college students concerned about
infidelity within their (incipient) relationships]: "There's no adultery
when you're eighteen. You should all be touching each other all the time."
There was quite a bit of after-chat about Mistress America in my group, as we
walked out of the theater. One reason
was the clever way the film presented us with multiple perspectives of Brooke
to chew on: Brook’s self image, Tracy’s perception of Brooke as her friend and as
a writer (and as quasi-narrator of the story), Brooke through the eyes of some
of the other characters – who clearly let us in on their opinions through words
and expressions, and our own (or Baumbach’s) take on her, since some of her
scenes are for our eyes and ears only, most notably one near the end in which she takes a call from her father
out of earshot of Tracy and the others.
In addition to Gerwig the entire ensemble was excellent,
especially Kirke as a believable Tracy,
Michael Chernus as Dylan, Mathew Shear as Tony, and Heather Lind as
Mamie-Claire. I’d single out whoever played the psychic, but that actor does
not seem to be credited.
In wide release - 84
minutes
No comments:
Post a Comment