I haven’t seen enough of Noah Baumbach‘s films to weigh in on the entirety of his filmography, but Frances Ha is something any fan of cinema is sure to enjoy as it harkens back to the films of the French New Wave with its music and editing choices and its lovely black-and-white imagery. Beyond that, it excels largely due to what would seem, on the surface, a simple story, elevated by the realization life is never simple.
Serving as co-writer and title star, Greta Gerwig steps into the shoes of Frances, a dance company apprentice with aspirations to, one day, join the company as a full-time dancer. She’s a little scattered and aloof, but nevertheless charming and someone you’d enjoy having as a friend.
She’s a dreamer with high aspirations and, even when things look their bleakest, maintains, somewhat irresponsibly, a certain level of confidence… or does she? Determining Frances’ inner-monologue may be the most fascinating exploration of this film for many people. How many of us have that ability to look at the inevitable and stare it in the face and say, “No”?
Given this question it’s up to you to determine how much you believe Frances’ decision making is questionable and how much is a result of blatant naiveté. At times she’s hanging by a thread and when she manages to find her feet, carries on until she once again finds herself in a tight spot and even then takes risks many will question or outright condemn.
Frances’ behavior will be at the heart of why a lot of people either love or hate this film. When a character’s judgment is called into question it’s the responsibility of the filmmakers to make sure the audience has connected enough with that character to ride the wave and not simply drown under the pressure of potential and absolute failure. When it comes to Frances — be it the storytelling, performance, screenwriting or overall New Wave vibe — I bought what Baumbach and Gerwig were selling.
I’ve seen many call into question the use of black-and-white nowadays, wondering what’s the use when color is available. The answer is simple, for the same reasons Michael Bay oversaturates his films, Clint Eastwood desaturates his and Christopher Nolan delivered his Batman trilogy in burnt orange, cool blues and icy greys. The decisions made when it comes to a film’s visual presentation is determined by the effect and tonal vibe the director seeks to have on an the audience. To dismiss a black-and-white film, in my opinion, is to overlook a major aspect of all films. Does the decision always work? No, but when it does (as it definitely does here) the results are inspiring.
Sam Levy’s monochrome cinematography lends a hand to the mood the film aims to deliver and made it easier for me to get comfortable with Frances. It eliminates the chances for audience members to judge her on the color of her clothes and/or makeup and rather delivers a chance to evaluate her as a person. Whether you approve or disapprove of her decisions is beyond the point, the fact you recognize her as a person is far more important and judge her for who she is and not what she looks like.
Gerwig nails the role, which is no surprise. She’s clearly found her groove and directors that know how to utilize her talents have taken notice. This is her second film with Baumbach, the first being Greenberg in which she was the only thing I truly enjoyed about that film, and she’s found work with Woody Allen (To Rome With Love) and Whit Stillman (Damsels in Distress). Truth be told, the overall quality of the the three films I just name-checked isn’t exemplary, but Gerwig’s work in them is top notch, just as she was able to stand out in the otherwise awful No Strings Attached.
Mickey Sumner plays Frances’ best friend Sophie, who embodies a character we are all likely familiar with, but some of the most fun we see on screen is when she spends a short time living with Lev (Adam Driver) and Benji (Michael Zegen). Driver isn’t nearly as frustratingly annoying as he is on HBO’s “Girls” where he plays Adam even though the two characters do have a few similarities, and Zegen as Benji sort of signifies that one male-female relationship many of us have had. It’s that situation where the possibility for something more is always there and while one side may want it a little more, the other side is virtually oblivious to the existence of the tension that exists.
Frances Ha is largely a character piece and when it isn’t, it’s a film showing appreciation for cinema of the past that many overlook or have never even sought out. It proves there is a way to capture the simple methods of storytelling from the past and tell a story of today. It shows not much has changed about our world and once you strip away the gloss and commercialism that troubles many or our productions today, you realize the real world problems we all face today are the same now as they were 70 years ago.
