Review: "Wendy & Lucy" great story of hope, loss, friendship

Wendy and Lucy captures the realism of the economic downturn as it hits the new generation of the unemployed: a heartbreaking tale of hope and loss in a time of uncertainty.

After Old Joy, director Kelly Reichardt sets out to explore another story of friendship, in this adaptation of Jon Raymond's story Train Choir.

Wendy, a young woman in her mid-twenties, embarks on a trip to Ketchikan, Alaska, to find a job in a fishery. She lives in her car with her only companion Lucy, a half-breed Labrador. When her Honda breaks down in a small, weary town in Oregon, Wendy finds herself stuck in a dire situation far away from her destination and without a home to return to.

The times of Hopper's Easy Rider and Kerouac's On the Road are long gone. This is not a trip to self discovery or spiritual insights - Wendy's on the road simply to find a job. Her trip to Alaska is her last chance: her humble savings are dwindling, her car is slowly falling apart and there is nowhere to go. Wendy's sister, the only family relative she decides to call, doesn't seem to care about her and her troubled situation.

One of the most touching moments in Wendy and Lucy, however, is when the girl documents every stop for gas or food in a notebook: one can see playful doodles next to the long line of decreasing numbers. Scenes like these show the heartbreaking reality of a young woman, torn out of adolescence by problems created not only by the financial hardship, but also by the unfair social system. Kelly Reichardt shows how the already tattered 'American dream' now turns into a real nightmare.

Wendy has no home, and without a fixed address she cannot get a job. When her car breaks down, she literally becomes homeless. Even priceless things like friendship are rendered impossible when she loses Lucy, her only friend and support.

But the grim situation leaves a place for hope, as some of the people Wendy encounters don't stay indifferent. The security guard (Wally Dalton) of the local supermarket helps Wendy to find her dog, and provides comfort for Wendy, who is on the verge of a breakdown.

Michelle Williams' performance in Wendy and Lucy is overwhelming. Without any music and barely any co-starring actors, the whole movie lies on Ms Williams' shoulders, and she carries it confidently: she plays the role without one futile movement; her expressions and timing make her performance so real, one can't help but feel for the lost woman.

Williams' talent and the quiet but tense atmosphere created both by the absence of music and the dramatic northwestern scenery make Wendy and Lucy an indie masterpiece, which could mark the beginning of a new realism in American cinema.