It is notable, in this context, that the one character permitted to interrupt Lady Bird's constant preoccupation with herself is her mother, Marion. Marion (the radiant Laurie Metcalfe) is a character portrayed in long, lingering takes and subtle asides. She cuts a decidedly sharper contrast to Lady Bird's fleeting focus. As a mother, she is - to use the words of one character - 'scary but warm'. She manages to be both supportive of her daughter's desires (note her calm, sober reaction to Lady Bird's questions about sex) and recognisably impatient with her flights of fancy. It seems simplistic to suggest that the two clash so often because they are very similar, and yet Marion is explicitly positioned as foil to Lady Bird for a reason. In a narrative steered entirely by the singular outlook of its protagonist, Marion's presence externalises an internal conflict. She allows Lady Bird to do battle with the reality of her circumstances and the moulding influence of her environment - two factors she will come to appreciate in time, but which she cannot conceive of as anything other than stifling in the moment. Yet, to imply Marion exists purely as an avatar for Lady Bird's internal arc is reductive. To use Metcalfe's words, Gerwig paints her in 'bold, bright colours'; actively distinguishing her from the frequently colourless depictions of mothers and mother/daughter relationships on film. Alone, Marion is a gentle and loving presence. She alters Lady Bird's dress for Thanksgiving dinner with her boyfriend and, hanging it on the wardrobe, lingers to watch her daughter sleep. She can barely bring herself to speak to Lady Bird after the latter gets into a New York college the family can barely afford, but sits writing and discarding multiple letters about how much she loves and cherishes her. Gerwig brings the same respect and affection she has for Lady Bird to Marion, realising her with humanity and tenderness and rooting her harder edges in the same source as those of Lady Bird - a profound and enduring love.
The depiction of Marion and Lady Bird positions them as the sole still points in the latter's rapidly turning world. The narrative slips and shifts around them, but never strays far from this one tightly forged bond. Gerwig's attentiveness to this relationship and the two individuals within it recognises the primacy of mothers in their daughter's lives, capturing the resentments and celebrating the intimacies. For many of us, this is a mother we know, treasure, and bemoan - the woman who wants you to be everything, and yet knows you too well to expect it. Gerwig's approach reinforces the radical female gaze she brings to her protagonist, as the narrative, which leads directly from Lady Bird, is only ever interrupted by the woman who is most like her. It is a loving, vibrant, and genuinely moving portrayal of that most under-served of cinematic relationships, the mother and her daughter.
26 CinÉireann / June 2018