Kelly Reichardt’s Certain Women takes place on the Montana plain. Those vast empty skies, those distant, bluey crags are what knit this triptych together. Otherwise—on initial inspection—there’s little to link these three ‘tales.’ But are they tales? Are there beginnings, middles and ends to these wisps of stories? Can something be called ‘whole,’ when it feels more to do with what isn’t than what is? What is going on here? What is there to say about a film that exists in the negative space—in what is not said and not done, in the excruciating intimacies of silence? But they are all about women, and the four female actors (Laura Dern, Michelle Williams, Kristen Stewart and Lily Gladstone) galvanize with ‘performances’ that don’t feel like acting at all, but women just being.
Something else that’s fascinating: the sound in all that silence, the fact that, at any given moment, there are so many things to hear, so many layers of noise to pay attention to: the wince of train tracks, the crackle of talk radio, silverware clinking on a plate, horse hooves creaking on snow. Boots squelch in mud, rivers rush, birds peep. Even the sound of a seat belt buckling is delicious here. And the strangest thing of all is that—even amid all this din—Certain Women still manages to feel like a silent movie.
Should You See It? Absolutely. And even better, close your eyes and hear it.—A.B.
at Landmark Plaza Frontenac Cinema
