Noah Baumbach‘s latest, Mistress America, never stops to let you catch up to its momentum, and it’s all the better for it. You either get into its offbeat, fast-mouthed rhythm — initially or eventually — or you don’t. If you do follow along and enjoy its rapid-speed groove, it’s a raucous good time. It’s not flawless, as its story beats are moderately traditional to a fault and some of its characters lose themselves, occasionally coming across more like dialogue machines than fleshed-out characters. Yet, the film remains finely polished and a constant delight, easily among the most refined and accomplished works the director’s produced thus far.
Lonely college freshman Tracy (Lola Kirke) is a writer desperately searching for inspiration. Her short stories lack flavor, spirit or spark and, because of this, she can’t gain acceptance into the exclusive Mobius Literary Club on campus. Her lack of social suave also keeps her distanced from her peers. Her only solace is found with fellow writer/Mobius reject Tony (Matthew Shear), a man she fancies as a potential boyfriend before he hooks up with the intensely clingy Nicolette (Jasmine Cephas Jones).
Miserable and depressed, on a whim Tracy decides to reach out to her soon-to-be sister-in-law Brooke (Greta Gerwig). The almost-30 socialite is quick to take her under her wing, the two becoming best friends overnight following a series of wild escapades in New York City. In Tracy, Brooke finds just another champion, but to our lead her soon-to-be sibling quickly adopts her muse, separating her from her writing anxieties and maturing her as a person in the process.
Naturally, it’s easy to see where things head. Bonds aren’t as tight as characters initially thought, compromises will be made and, from all this, Tracy finds herself both personally and professionally. To Gerwig and Baumbach’s accomplished script’s credit, however, they’re always three steps ahead of their story’s process. Their third collaboration together — behind Greenberg and Frances Ha, and their second mutual writing effort behind the latter — it’s evident Gerwig, Baumbach’s real-life girlfriend, is as much an inspiration for him as her character is for our protagonist. His work here is among the most crackling and well-formed he’s made in his entire filmmaking career, borrowing instead of copying from his influences — Howards Hawks, Woody Allen and Whit Stillman — creating a familiar narrative, yet one found almost entirely on its own speed and delivery, brazening itself proudly against its stuffy coming-of-age peers.
Once every primary character is firmly established and their motivations cemented, all this comes into beautiful succession with an elongated one-location sequence mid-way through, utilizing every character’s quirks and point-of-view to their fullest. It plays out like a harmonious, multi-player verbal ping-pong extravaganza. It’s like something from a Michael Frayn play. Baumbach, more confident than ever as a director, keeps the tone sophisticated but consciously light-hearted, letting the sensational dialogue carry his film through. Thanks to its short running time and confined focus, it never runs the risk of overextending its reach, picking from too many apples on the trees or becoming navel-gazing.
With While We’re Young earlier this year, Baumbach’s satirizing of 40-something wannabe-hipsters quickly turned into a finger wagging commentary on the state of art and culture today, much to its own chagrin. It said quite a few things, some a little profound. Ultimately, though, it provided these asides at the expense of a fluid film, bringing everything to a patronizing halt. Here, though, Baumbach and Gerwig communicate freely on the social media-crazed 20-somethings in America today but don’t let their running commentary ever slow things down. The pacing is swift and the characters develop naturally in the story. We focus on them as they grow, but we enjoy seeing their briskly-defined personalities come into form.
In a role specifically suited just for her, Gerwig plays Brooke to-a-T and carries the film proudly on her shoulders when given the chance, but she doesn’t steal the center stage nor does she try to. Instead, newcomer Kirke, sister to Jemima Kirke from “Girls“, holds her own at the forefront. She does this with a restraint, commanded well above her years, all while capturing the yearning soul of an eager, non-concentrated early adult/blooming-artist in contemplation. Additionally, Michael Chernus, though only seen briefly, elevates the levity beautifully with his fun-loving Dylan, Jones plays up her temperamental character without ever overplaying her and Shear’s dry delivery rarely fails to fall short.
As per usual, though, the screenplay is the star of Baumbach’s latest and, with Gerwig by his side, he seemingly can do no wrong. Having unfortunately missed Frances Ha, it’s not my place to compare the two, but — knowing full well what he can create on his own terms — it’s safe to say Baumbach is a filmmaker coming into his prime, exuberantly balancing the metropolitan and the everyman in just the right way with his current output. He knows how to let everyone get the laugh but also helps others benefit from his refined, lived-in insight.
Though Mistress America may not be his most impacting work, it’s one of his most readily smart and almost definitely his tightest feature to date. It’s touching, intellectual, and entirely pleasant to watch. You’ll have no problem following this mistress into the night.
