Writer-director Kelly Reichardt likes to lay out premises and let the audience draw their own conclusions. She never hammers you over the head with meaning or simple bromides that repackage what the dominant culture thinks about life. Instead, she creates films that invade your brain and leave you replaying images and scenes while interrogating the experience you’ve just had. In her first adaptation of a Jonathan Raymond story, OLD JOY (2006, Criterion Channel, Max), she presents the reunion of two friends on an overnight camping trip. Wanderer Kurt (Will Oldham) and expectant father Mark (Daniel London) have moved in different directions since they last spent time together. Through subtle glances and body language, Reichardt and her actors suggest the frustrations of their current interaction and the moments of connection.
OLD JOY has two other elements that coalesce with the meandering narrative. As Mark drives around, he listens to liberal talk radio, with commentators bemoaning the impotence of the Democratic party following George W. Bush’s reelection. With the film’s setting in the liberal Northwest, that provides a fascinating reflection of the two men’s lingering disaffection with where their lives have taken them. Visually, Reichardt builds a tension between city and country, with cinematographer Peter Sellen capturing the beauty of the Cascade mountains and the post-industrial coldness of Portland, OR. This mirrors the traditional dichotomy of the Western, which opposes civilization and the frontier. But here neither has maintained any ideal form. The city has permeated the country; Kurt and Mark get lost and have to camp in a dump in the middle of the forest. And the free-living Kurt, no frontiersman, is a sad figure one step away from homelessness (he’s staying in a friend’s house until it can be sold) and clearly has little money. But civilization has brought Mark a passive-aggressive marriage and a job that consumes his and his wife’s time so thoroughly he’s not sure how they’re going to handle having a child. His only outlet is working in a community garden, getting back to the pioneer dream for at least one day a week.
Oldham has the showier role as he prattles on about his travels and his concept of the universe. But Reichardt gives London some beautifully subtle reaction shots, perfectly timed to Oldham’s monologues. During one long speech when they’re in a hot spring’s bath house, her cuts to London’s stony face are among the funniest shots in the film. That sequence also includes a terrific example of Reichardt’s indirect story telling. After earlier complaining about the distance that’s grown between them, Oldham starts to give London a shoulder rub while the latter relaxes in one of the hot tubs. At first, London resists, and Reichardt cuts to a shot of his left hand and wedding ring on the side of the tub as Oldham’s hands move further down his chest. Then the hand relaxes and slips under the water. When asked if this is meant to be homoerotic, all Reichardt will say is that that’s an interpretation people can draw. Is this elliptical approach a sign of the death of the author? If so, long live the auteur.