This was my second Kelly Reichardt film, and after this and First Cow I’m officially a fan. Her films  could be described as slow, but I find them to be distinctively quiet, leaving you ample space to think  while you watch.  

Showing Up follows a sculptor who works at the same rural Pacific Northwest art school that her  mother is an administrator at, in an environment where she is constantly surrounded by other artists  striving to achieve their own goals. Despite the seemingly peaceful creative environment, Lizzy  (played by the incredible Michelle Williams) seems perpetually aggravated and stressed as she  prepares for an upcoming gallery show. 

For the first stretch of the film, there are numerous quiet, long sequences presenting Lizzy’s creative  process in making her ceramic models. While these moments are certainly slow, they are juxtaposed  with all sorts of chaotic interpersonal, familial, and humorous logistical challenges interspersed  throughout the other scenes. The true greatness of the film lies in Reichardt’s interpretation of this  internal battle to create art. Seeing what it takes to shut the chaos of the world out so you can create  your work, despite that fact that great work will tend to spawn out of some sort of emotional lived  experience. 

Particular accolades should be given to the shots of the ceramic models themselves. The models are  eerie and beautiful, and the way they’re shot fills in an entire new segment of the emotional spectrum. Additionally, it’s always a joy to see André 3000 in a rare film appearance. He seems to  have a natural aura of warmth emanating off of him, and I would be eager to see him keep showing  up in more great projects like this.  

When all the different elements culminate at the climax of the film, I realized just how absorbed I was  after initially being very aware of how slow things were moving at the front end. A subtle, beautiful,  surprising treat of a film that I highly recommend. 

I’ve had a penchant for weird little guys since I was a weird little guy myself, and even as I’ve aged  into a weird older guy, I still can’t get enough of the stuff. Kirby is my A1 weird little guy. The true  secret about Kirby is that the musicians at Hal Labratories (the same studio that makes Super Smash Bros)  are the sickest video game composers in the business. Kirby soundtracks are the Chick Corea jams of  Nintendo games. Buck wild jazz/rock fusion tracks with shredding solos and crazy time signatures  galore. It’s hilarious that the mainline Nintendo marketed at kids has some of the most complex and  mature compositions.

This game evolves Kirby in a few beautiful ways. First, it moves  him into 3D environments that function surprisingly well despite Kirby’s ability to fly around. It builds  in progression via an ability leveling mechanic that make a noticeable impact in the later levels of the game.  Finally, it adds an endgame that is far more challenging that anything else Kirby has provided in the  past, making progress feel valuable. Similar to Super Mario 3D World, the added depth here comes in when trying to find all  the secrets in each level, which kept me engaged trying to parse through the playful and clever level  design. This game is endlessly adorable, and if you like weird little guys and joyful oddity as much as I  do, this is an easy recommendation.