My review of “Frances Ha”
Director: Noah Baumbach
Writers: Noah Baumbach, Greta Gerwig
Starring: Greta Gerwig, Mickey Sumner, Adam Driver, Grace Gummer
Running Time: 86 Minutes
Puma Rating: Two Paws Up
At first glance, “Frances Ha” appears to be a movie about a woman who doesn’t want to grow up. The protagonist Frances Halladay, a young dancer living in New York City, runs around the streets with the wild abandon of a toddler. She play-fights with her roommate/best friend Sophie in the middle of Central Park, cuddles with her on the subway and waits outside Sophie’s office like an adoring puppy. The height of their co-dependence is demonstrated most fully in Frances’ begging Sophie to “Tell [her] the story of us,” an imaginary narrative that Sophie patiently spins as if she’s heard the same request many times before. Which she undoubtedly has. Sophie tells a future story of she and Frances living together as rich, accomplished “spinsters” in the future. And Frances eagerly laps it up. Indeed, she remains stubbornly committed to this imagined future – even when Sophie decides she wants to move out and move on, much to Frances’ chagrin. The black and white cinematography and whimsical music used sparingly during key moments in the narrative evoke the style of films like Francois Truffaut’s “400 Blows,” which center upon young heroes who do not wish to conform to the demands of maturity and change that society has placed upon them. Indeed, Baumbach even uses two songs taken directly from Truffaut films to underscore moments in “Frances Ha” – namely, Georges Delerue’s “Theme de Camille” from Truffaut’s “A Gorgeous Girl Like Me” for the opening montage between Frances and Sophie, and Maurice Jaubert’s “Divertimento de la sonate a due” from Truffaut’s “Small Change” for a Christmas montage featuring Frances’ vacation with her family in Sacramento, California.
Yet, the film is far more than the sum of its influences. It is a gentle exploration of Frances’ reluctant journey to maturity. Baumbach mostly uses full and medium framing for his shots, so a close focus is held upon Frances and the other characters that come in and out of her orbit, while anything in the background is mostly faded. This technique is particularly effective at establishing Frances’ self-centered world view. Just as Frances is the center of all in her own mind, she is literally the center of Baumbach’ shots and is featured in practically every frame. Yet, other characters are also allowed to be the sole center of their own shots, which sets up the central conflict in Frances’ life – it is difficult to be the center of attention when others also believe that they are the center of attention as well. As the film progresses, more group shots are incorporated and the conflict between what Frances wants and what society is willing to give her falls into sharper focus. Frances may be the anchor in many of the events that happen to the secondary characters – as she is in the group frames – but she does not dominate their worlds, despite her belief in her own importance. The subtle realization of that truth, particularly as it relates to Sophie, will form the crux of Frances’ maturation.
Baumbach maintains an interesting sense of distance from his characters. While the framing could be considered intimate, it is never overly so. Closeups are used to a minimum. One gets the impression that it is not Baumbach’s intention to have us be voyeurs in Frances’ life, but witnesses to her journey.
The naturalistic acting is some of the best I’ve ever seen. Improvised and scripted moments are blended so seamlessly that the film never feels untruthful. As Frances, Greta Gerwig gives a completely lived-in performance that never relies on showiness. She embodies Frances’ naivety, pain, frustration, hurt and, later, joy as smoothly as a hand immersing itself in water and shares the screen with her fellow performers generously and effortlessly. Mickey Sumner is also a revelation. Sumner fully conveys Sophie’s need to create a life apart from Frances but never loses sight of the deep, platonic love that marked their friendship. A brief crisis of doubt that Sophie suffers toward the end of the film is played effectively without veering into overacting. The rest of the ensemble is just as masterful as Gerwig and Sumner. They all play off each other, giving and taking and letting their characters affect and be affected. Even those playing the most minor characters imbue their performances with a realism that does not feel forced.
As co-writers, Baumbach and Gerwig have crafted a frustrating, complicated, and myopic character and dared not to force any comeuppances or revelations on her. Within the first hour of “Frances Ha,” one sees parallels between her experiences and that of Antoine Doinel, Truffaut’s French New Wave hero who also struggled with society’s expectations and other people’s decisions. One would even expect “Frances Ha” to conclude on a note of hopeless uncertainty, as did “The 400 Blows,” the first entry in the Doinel series. But Baumbach and Gerwig are not interested in pitying or judging Frances. They eschew big lectures and grand humiliations as teaching tools for her. While the other characters regard Frances with bemusement and even impatience, no one takes it upon themselves to impose a “reality check” upon her. There are no melodramatic moments of Frances overhearing someone else’s opinion of her. Instead, Baumbach and Gerwig give her the space to make her own decisions and come to her own realizations. Unlike Truffaut’s Doinel in his first outing, Frances’ difficulties are not projected as highly devastating events from which her recovery will be complicated. Her petulant fight with Sophie over Sophie’s boyfriend Patch accompanying her to one of Frances’ dance performances and her cringeworthy attempts to make a dinner party about her are simply treated as events that, while rough in the moment, will pass without a permanent mark. Transitions are made quickly between story beats, matching the pace of life as it marches on, with or without you. By trusting Frances to learn lessons on her own, Baumbach and Gerwig empower her to be her own hero.
If you happen to purchase the Criterion DVD of this film, it comes with an excellent essay by the playwright Annie Baker. My human promised me that she would read it. Instead, she fell asleep.
