5 Best Greta Gerwig Films Before Lady Bird

Greta Gerwig is enjoying a moment just now but, in truth, it’s long been in the making. She started out as the leading lady of the unfortunately-named ‘mumblecore’ movement, those films of post-collegiate pain and disillusionment. She was like a 21st-century Gena Rowlands, commanding, charismatic, giving fullness to even the smallest of roles in independent films.

She has made precious few trips into the mainstream, with these including a now-regretted part in Woody Allen’s To Rome with Love (2012), and a role in Arthur (2011), the remake that functioned as a vehicle for Russell Brand in what turned out to be a mercifully-small leading man career. This is partly because of her confidence in herself and her willingness to pursue own path; it’s also perhaps a result of her acting style, which favours naturalism and subtlety over anything obviously trying.

This winning approach has now transferred over to directing, in 2017’s Lady Bird, her first sole directing feature, a coming-of-age, semi-autobiographical film set in Gerwig’s hometown of Sacramento, California. She became only the fifth women nominated for the Academy Award for Best Director. It’s quite unlikely that she will triumph, however, as her direction isn’t showy or spectacular, of which the Academy usually favours; rather, like her own singular performances, Gerwig instinctively instructs her actors and the result is incredibly accomplished performances from both Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalf as Christine ‘Lady Bird’ McPherson and her mother Marion. She directs the narrative clearly and succinctly, and balances poignancy and comedy so delicately.

Whether Lady Bird wins on the night or not, Gerwig will definitely be getting more opportunities behind the camera. With the ceremony now under two weeks away, the time is right to consider Gerwig’s career up until this point, and this article lists her 5 best film performances before ‘Lady Bird’.

 

Nights And Weekends

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAIl5hz60ZU

The first of her complimentary working relationships with a director, Gerwig starred in three of Joe Swanberg’s first four films. Nights and Weekends (2008) followed LOL (2006) and Hannah Takes the Stairs (2007), and is less rough than those two. The narrative – an account of the flourishing and dissolution of a long-term relationship between two people – was primed for the ‘mumblecore’ treatment: the naturalism of Swanberg and Gerwig’s filmmaking allowed the minutiae of the relationship to reveal itself to the audience, showing the quiet, solemn conversations that end up defining a couple’s life together.

Gerwig’s fearlessness was evident here, as the raw style stripped everything back; indeed, she and Swanberg spent considerable parts of the film naked. Nights and Weekends zooms in on its central couple and there is no hiding. Gerwig has a co-writing credit as well as a co-director one, and the well-rounded nature of her character, Mattie, is evidence of this. She is not vapid, one-note, or naive. Gerwig also managed to make her Mattie the more arresting one, her fluctuating emotions holding the audience’s attention; Swanberg’s James is a cardboard cutout, Mattie feels lived-in.

The film’s dialogue will resonate with so many young urbanites, experiencing the thrill and heartbreak of relationships and this is what Nights and Weekends gets so right: it’s not a romantic, Hollywood vision of love, but a real, understood version. They want to talk about nothing in particular, explore their city, have sex, in any order. Gerwig and Swanberg’s film works as a dissection of such people so accurately because it’s their lives too.

 

Greenberg

2010 saw her unite with director Noah Baumbach (they’d later start a relationship offscreen) for the first time. It was also only her second piece outside the mumblecore movement, but she brought her naturalism and artlessness to Greenberg (2010) successfully.

This was billed as Ben Stiller’s new film, or Baumbach’s latest indie, but it was a star-making turn for Gerwig and it was her that emerged most prominently. Her subtlety as Florence made Stiller perform better, as the wistful Roger Greenberg, than he had done in years. Like Nights and Weekends, the relationship at the core feels real, not imagined, and Roger courts Florence in a sequence of missed opportunities and awkward conversations. Theirs is an unorthodox romance, he fresh out of a mental hospital aged 40, she the disorganised, quirky 20-year old trying to figure out her path in life.

It’s difficult to picture at first how Florence could be interested in Roger, who in Baumbach’s screenplay, is almost insufferable, but it’s a result of Gerwig’s committed performance that we eventually can; she makes Florence’s vulnerabilities clear, her need for companionship evident, and we then understand what she sees in Roger. Greenberg may be the title of the film, Stiller its star, but it’s Gerwig who drives the narrative and who commands attention long after the credits roll.

 

Frances Ha

By far her best acting performance, Frances Ha (2012) seemed to distill everything Gerwig and her cohorts had been trying to say before: it’s an era-defining portrait of young, urbanite malaise.

Frances is 27, trying to make it as a dancer in New York. She’s weird, immature, whimsical and in a lesser actor’s hands could have been reduced to a caricature. Like her character in Greenberg (and most others) she’s trying to define her identity, trying to find her place in the adult world. Frances Ha unfolds like Gerwig and Baumbach’s love letter to their cinematic idols: it’s shot in black-and-white and features Georges Delerue’s music, both nods to the iconic French New Wave; our heroine Frances is a protagonist in the mold of Diane Keaton’s inimitable Annie Hall from Woody Allen’s romantic-comedy predecessor.

The narrative unfolds in a series of setpieces, as Frances moves from place to place, including her old college Vassar and to a friend’s apartment in Paris; each move undertaken is done in an attempt find herself. Gerwig’s performance can induce discomfort at points but this is entirely purposeful: living like this, during these formative adult years, are often cringe-inducing. Frances will be painfully real to many viewers and it’s why Gerwig’s creation is so symbolic. She is, and the film is, an expression of hope for millennials everywhere.

 

Mistress America

Her third collaboration with her partner Baumbach, Mistress America (2015) gives Gerwig the opportunity to play a different version of her young post-collegiate urban female.

This one is bitter, unlikeable, more complex, and Gerwig revels in the despicable Brooke: she’s a ‘curator’, who takes her soon-to-be-stepsister and college freshman Tracy under her wing in New York, opening her eyes to the big city. Tracy is quickly infatuated with the seemingly-successful Brooke, a sophisticated and independent model for what she would like to become. Mirroring Baumbach and Gerwig’s frequent material, Tracy uses Brooke as a template for a new short story she’s working on (called Mistress America).

Brooke’s arrogance and impetuosity lead them to the large Connecticut house of her former boyfriend where a stand-off with his new girlfriend, and Brooke’s natural enemy, unfolds in a sequence of screwball delight. It’s expertly choreographed, as people move through the house almost balletically, and it’s a swift change of pace from the earlier parts of the film but it works so well due to Gerwig’s control of this centrepiece: multiple characters are involved, offering comedy and insight but its Gerwig’s Brooke whose simmering frustration and bubbling temper hold our attention, for she threatens to explode at any moment. It’s a physical masterpiece by the actor, full of ferocious sideways glances and furtive twitches.

Mistress America serves as commentary on those people desperate to impress, at any cost, and shows this through its two strong female leads: Tracy is still young and can become a well-rounded, aspirational urbanite; Brooke represents the alternate, a woman spurned by the world, unable to let go of her frustrations at how her life has turned out.

 

20th Century Women

For once Gerwig isn’t the central character here but she still resonates through her aura and charisma. It’s also her first role in another time, 20th Century Women (2016) being set in 1979, but her young, disillusioned character still feels universal through the generations.

She plays Abbie, one of a number of tenants in a California boarding house. She’s got brightly-coloured hair, listens to punk music and pursues a career in photography, all while recovering from cervical cancer. She is tasked by owner of the boarding house, Dorothea, with teaching her young son Jamie about growing up, since she is a much older single mother. Abbie takes him to music gigs and gives him feminist literature to read.

Mike Mills’ film, and the house, is filled with strong, eccentric women, and it’s delightful to witness the lineage of actors in it: the new, supremely talented Elle Fanning, the effortless 21st-century alternative muse Gerwig, and the elder icon Annette Bening. Gerwig certainly belongs in such company and Abbie is one of her most profound performances. Her frustration at her struggles in Santa Barbara and her suffering through cancer are all too evident, even in her introspective moments. By the end of the film, we feel we’ve got to know all these women, including Gerwig’s Abbie, in a much deeper sense.

Some of the coverage you find on Cultured Vultures contains affiliate links, which provide us with small commissions based on purchases made from visiting our site. We cover gaming news, movie reviews, wrestling and much more.