Wendy Carroll decides to move to Ketchikan, Alaska where she spends summer time earning money with her beloved dog. She must struggle with the ups and downs to deal with financial problems to settle down.
Wendy and Lucy's minimalist aesthetic relaxes rather than taxes our awareness, allowing it to linger over minute details, which, in turn, become monumental developments.
The climax is a heartbreaker, and in its haunting finale the movie recalls no less than Mervyn LeRoy's Depression-era classic I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang.
Within the confines of this minimalist (with a microscopic m) picture, there are sequences so vital, timely and of-the-moment, so powerful and well-observed and precise, the effect can be emotionally overwhelming.
MLive.com
March 27, 2015
Wendy and Lucy is a little masterpiece about the painful realities of life among the have-nots during tough economic times.
Wendy and Lucy is too laconic to be mistaken for a social drama, but it's set in a land whose harshness seems to a require a stronger critique than Reichardt's vignettes.
Williams and Patton and the folks of this corner of Oregon serve up a slice of "indie" that, if it doesn't reach the level of "inspires," at least feels timely and true.
I expect there will be more stories like Wendy and Lucy's in the coming months and years. The wonder will be if they articulate their compassion and distress with such unforced eloquence.
In happy sum, Reichardt is one more of the current American directors, most of them still young, who are endowing our film world with pleasure and hope.
