After I saw Boyhood, I was pretty sure that there would never be a possibility to watch a great coming of age story over less than 3 hours. I thought there was ZERO chance a 90 minute movie could give us a thorough enough view of a character to watch them grow and change and become different things before they settle into who they will eventually become. Well, I stand corrected thanks to Greta Gerwig. Lady Bird is as perfect a story you can tell in 90 minutes about watching someone grow up. It’s as honest, emotional, funny, and perceptive a look at a high school senior that has been put to film.
“Lady Bird” is Christine McPherson’s (Saoirse Ronan) self-given nickname. She’s a senior at a Sacramento high school, figuring out what she wants to do. She joins the drama team with her best friend Julie (Beanie Feldstein) in part to pad her college resume and in part to get close to a boy, Danny (Lucas Hedges), she is partly smitten with. Lady Bird’s mom Marion (Laurie Metcalf) is perpetually worried about Lady Bird: she finds her daughter is too much of a dreamer and needs to be more grounded in her college pursuits. Her dad Larry (Tracy Letts) is more supportive of her dreams to move east, but he has his own issues at work that leave him distracted. Under these circumstances, Lady Bird navigates high school suburban Sacramento, trying on new personalities and experiences before she has to make that fateful leap into her college life.
Greta Gerwig was born in Sacramento, but as far as I’m concerned, Greta Gerwig was born in suburban America. Lady Bird’s experiences parallel my own and many of my friends experiences eerily so. As a high schooler, I’m certain no one really knows who they are, and are trying to figure it out. People like queen bee Jenna (Odeya Rush) find their place through everyone else: she’s the hottest, therefore her place is secure as the Mean Girl leader. Danny’s place is drama club showman. Julie’s the nerd. Most people, like Lady Bird, don’t have their feet in just one group: they see pieces of themselves in all of them and want to try them out. So new personas get developed over seasons: Lady Bird gets to try out bitchy mean girl, drama queen, and student extraordinaire over her senior year, figuring out which persona she likes the most. At first, charismatic clique leaders or boys push her towards a new persona, but eventually, Lady Bird decides for herself and either moves on or doubles down. Then there’s the dreamer aspect of a suburban teen, Gerwig’s best observation. Lady Bird wants out of Sacramento, bad. She wants to see the world outside her little town that is dirty and VERY boring to her. Through those feelings she develops a pain and frustration that to her parents and friends seems like entitled BS. But as a teenager, each person has limited life experiences, so this longing IS the worst. More unfortunate, you see certain people you admire and respect that have smaller ambitions than you do, which doesn’t make any sense and confuses you further. And at home, you see your parents modulating arguments as stepping on your dreams. Suburban angst can be hard to describe at times, but it does exist, and Gerwig gets her point across by showing us these situations instead of just spelling them out.
The hardest part’s of Lady Bird to write must have been the parent/child relationships. Lady Bird’s parents are a creepy mirror into my own relationships, but I think apply to most people. One parent is the dreamer and supporter. Most kids love this parent: they joke and laugh, and put their resources and time on the line to make your life feel special. What kid wouldn’t like that? In Lady Bird, that’s Larry. He’s quiet and does everything he can to push Lady Bird toward her dreams, even bringing up refinancing of the house to pay for college. Of course Lady Bird would enjoy time with him most. But then there’s the challenge: Marion, in this movie. As played by Laurie Metcalf, Marion is the bedrock of the family, holding it together. As such, Marion has ZERO time for nonsense of any kind, which is why Lady Bird’s big dreamer personality clashes wildly with Marion’s. So the conversations the two have can be nice, but escalate quickly with a wrong word or look during a conversation, then the discussion turns into an argument about something else. However, as the two spend time apart, Lady Bird realizes just how important mom was for her: Marion works double shifts to stay in their decent but subpar house and be the sole provider for the family (Larry’s job situation is bad). Marion has to also make all the tough decisions; I remember when I realized one of my parents always had to be the bearer of bad news, that must weight so heavily on them that they can’t enjoy their time with you even though they want to. And most importantly, when times get REALLY hard for Lady Bird, Marion is there for comfort and support. Relationships that complex are hard to write without explaining everything to the audience, and Gerwig finds the exact tone and tenor of the Marion/Lady Bird relationship that it will tear you up if you’re paying attention.
Lady Bird WAS me. She’s that young adult that wants something more out of her life, and trying every way she can to learn and grow into something else. I listened to sad Dave Matthews songs after a breakup. I bounced from social group to social group to see where I fit in. I thought of nothing else other than getting out of my town to see the world. But most importantly, like Lady Bird, as I was getting out, whenever I come back home from time to time, I see my hometown in a different lens, one that gave me the strength, personality, and courage to push myself to do something ambitious. If you watch Lady Bird, you’ll want to do the same for your little but sweet suburb, while listening to “Crash Into Me.”