I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy/wherewithal to write something resembling an actual review about Lady Bird, so here’s just a couple of scattered thoughts.
- I loved this. It felt like a hug from an old friend.
- Saoirse Ronan is completely in a league of her own in her generation of actors. I mean, in the last two years, she’s given us one of the best dramatic performances of the decade in Brooklyn and in this one of the best comedic performances.
- Laurie Metcalf and her sad, sad eyes broke my heart and made me laugh so many times.
- Tracy Letts is the dad everyone wants. His delivery of “Oh fuck.” Legendary.
- Lucas Hedges has GOT to stop making me cry in movies! First Manchester by the Sea, and now this!? We can only hope he doesn’t do the same in Three Billboards. (I hope very much he keeps making me cry because homeboy is TALENTED. Can’t wait for Boy Erased.)
- How DARE Greta Gerwig use so much Sondheim in the first half of this, ESPECIALLY Merrily We Roll Along??! Why did she tailor make this for me?? When Stephen McKinley Henderson, crestfallen, said, “They didn’t understand it,” I thought I was going to die.
- I only sort of felt like the narrative was losing tightness once Lady Bird started making worse decisions–her relationship with Timothée Chalamet, her fake new friend, her lying, her getting suspended–but that’s so slight because it was still so good.
- Beanie Feldstein better be a huge star after this. She was incredible.
- Goddamn, y'all. I’ve only seen ten movies this year, but so far, my two favorites–this and Get Out–are both brazen and brilliant pieces of work from actors/writers turned first-time directors. The future of American film is bright with Greta Gerwig and Jordan Peele in the world.