Lady Bird is a poignant and awkwardly comedic bildungsroman about a rambunctious 17 year old daughter and her tempestuous relationship with her loving mother, all wrapped into a love letter to the city of Sacramento.
I haven’t watched a movie in a while.1 I should really watch more movies.
Semi-Spoilers Ahead
Christine (played by Saoirse Ronan) has declared herself to be known as Lady Bird, triumphing over the name given to her by her parents.
Christine doesn’t quite know who she wants to be or where she wants to go, but she certainly knows it’s not with her parents (who live on the “wrong side of the tracks”) and not in Sacramento. Lady Bird so precisely reminds me of that feeling of not wanting while not having any semblance of what it is I do want. The intense repulsion for what you have now in favor of whatever it is I could have. This certainly described me when I was in high school.2 I wouldn’t say the sentiment is “grass is greener on the other side.” It’s a lot more instinctive than that. It’s a primal impatience for the ticking of the clock, a basal negativity for the present state. And oh my is it a terrible feeling.
As Lady Bird smokes her first cigarettes with her goth pseudo-sister, leaves behind her childhood best friend for the popular girl, pursues a hot dude named Kyle (played by Timothée Chalamet, of course), and skips Thanksgiving with her family, she eventually comes to realize who in her life really cares about her. While not the most original plot, Lady Bird is written cleverly and executed beautifully. The dialogue strikes a sophisticated balance between awkward humor and intense emotional honesty, what more could you want?
I give the movie a solid 4/5.