To its credit, Reichardt’s film is in no rush to explain itself: its story is simple and told with clarity, yet something lingers with you. Showing Up premiered at Cannes in a final-day slot that gave it the feeling of a grace note: a quiet coda to two weeks of weighty political allegory. She’s also Lizzie’s landlord and neighbor, which doesn’t much help. “There’s spontaneity in that pot,” he tells one student, “it’s its own thing.” There is Marleen (Heather Lawless), a supportive teacher taking an interest in Lizzie’s work and there is Jo (Hong Chau), who works in textiles and, with two auspicious exhibitions in the works, might be on the cusp of some success. There is Eric, who runs a sculpting class and operates the kiln where Lizzie fires her work he is played by André Benjamin, whose deliciously greying hair only adds to his charisma. Through the school, Reichardt introduces a smattering of likeable eccentrics (though this is Portland, so safe to say they will not be to everybody’s tastes). In Williams’ slumped shoulders you can sense feelings of inadequacy.
Her brother Sean ( First Cow‘s John Magaro) rarely leaves the house these days, and appears to suffer from something akin to bipolar disorder, though Lizzie’s mother is quick to remind her of how how much potential he once had. Her father (a nice turn from Judd Hirsch) is also a ceramics artist and, unfortunately for Lizzie’s confidence, one of some renown. Her mother (Maryann Plunkett) is the school’s administrator as well as her boss.
Reichardt sets most scenes in the Portland art school where Lizzie works. It’s also a work about imposter syndrome. Reichardt is more interested in showing the measured flow of her creative process, the pace and intimacy of it, how it steadies her. Told in Reichardt’s clear aesthetic language, Showing Up is reminiscent of Jim Jarmusch’s Paterson, another film drawing clean lines about the meditative joys of creating things and just like Jarmusch’s bus-driving poet, the suggestion that Lizzie is especially talented at what she does or might “make it” is not the ultimate aim. Yet it isn’t just a story about midlife melancholy, though there’s plenty of that on offer. The bullish ambition of youth has passed, if she ever had it her main concerns these days are as modest as keeping the hot water on. Lizzie is hard-working, passionate about her craft, protective of it, and rather good at what she does (foot-high clay sculptures of women in motion that she refers to pronominally).
In Showing Up, Williams plays Lizzie (endlessly endearing in crocs, bob cut, and sensible linens), a sculptor who is neither famous nor struggling, but somewhere in-between: an undefined lower-middle-class of artist that cinema tends to overlook. It stars Michelle Williams, an actress who has always been at home to the quiet rhythms of Reichardt’s filmmaking, appearing over the years as a down-on-her-luck drifter in Wendy and Lucy (2008), a settler on the wagon trail in Meek’s Cutoff (2011), and as a woman burdened by a belittling man in the director’s anthology Certain Women (2016). Showing Up is about art, how art is made, and the people who use their time to make it.
Passionate gay fucking tumblr how to#
The Time Traveler’s Wife is only two episodes deep and is already no stranger to controversial content, although Henry figuring out how to fellate himself is admittedly a much more fun plot line than him going back in time as an adult to inform his wife’s child self that they’ll be married one day.Īnd it just might be pulling in more viewers, too.Two years after First Cow, which we collectively named our favorite film of 2020, Kelly Reichardt returns with a work like a line drawing: neat, lean, evocative. While more conservative folks predictably clutched their pearls, the curious spent time debating both the practicality and appeal of such a situation. The episode, written by former Doctor Who showrunner Steven Moffat, caused quite a stir. It features 16-year-old Henry (Brian Altemus) getting caught in the throes of passion by his father, only to reveal that the person underneath his cover is…himself.įellas, is it gay if you’re just giving yourself a bj? The already infamous blow job scene took place in the second episode of the show, which aired on Sunday. The Time Traveler’s Wife is based on a 2003 novel by Audrey Niffenegger, and follows a man named Henry (Theo James) who travels in time unpredictably thanks to a genetic disorder, and the impact that has on his wife, Clare (Rose Leslie). Time travel stories often present a lot of existential questions, but HBO’s recent adaptation of The Time Traveler’s Wife just got down to the nitty gritty - traveling back in time to give yourself a blow job.