By Christian Sandler
I'm not sure why I find the coming-of-age genre so fascinating. Maybe it's because I experienced all of it. Maybe it's because it's so deeply moving. It's consistently the only genre that makes me feel nostalgic, awestruck, and full of life. Watching Lady Bird was like growing up again.
On the surface, there are plenty of differences between my childhood and Christine "Lady Bird" McPherson's. I grew up in Tampa, she grew up in Sacramento. I went to a preppy suburban high school, she went to a small catholic school. I went by Chris because Christian wasn't cool enough, she went by Lady Bird because she never chose Christine. I'm a guy, she's a girl. Really, though, it's all the same. The details come second because every great coming of coming-of-age story is about the subject. It's about finding yourself and probably coming up short.
Saoirse Ronan, a stunning Irish actress in her early twenties, is seamlessly transformed into the edgy teenage outcast of Lady Bird on screen. She wears short, messy red hair and bracelets that clash with her school uniform. She's snarky, rebellious and doesn't have a clue about who she truly is or what she truly wants to do. She speaks maturely of leaving Sacramento behind to join writers in the woods of New Hampshire, but after she throws herself out of a car and breaks her arm, the cast is bright pink to go along with her bedroom decor.
It's not exactly this wildly original plot line — every high school has a Lady Bird. What makes the film so special is that all of these things happening, all of these seemingly uninteresting and commonplace obstacles of adolescence, seem to really matter. There are plenty that would argue nothing earth-shattering occurs in Lady Bird, but for someone like me that consistently thinks back to my time in high school and wonders just how it shaped me, everything happened.
Writer/director Greta Gerwig sends us plunging into Lady Bird's world in the opening scene of the film, a car ride with her mother, played by Laurie Metcalf. At first they seem to be enjoying each other's company, but soon the conversation shifts to a mother-daughter standoff. "I want to move out of Sacramento and live in a city with character, like New York." "We don't have money for that, Christine, we'll barely have enough for in-state tuition." You see where this is going.
I didn't throw myself out of a car when my parents told me I couldn't get out of Florida and go to Penn State, but I probably thought about it. Lady Bird's dream was one I just woke up from, and Gerwig, who grew up in Sacramento, captured scenes like this perfectly, because she lived them too. For so many high schoolers, senior year is a harsh, hazy gateway into a world that just has to be better. Lady Bird and I didn't appreciate it at the time.
The film coasts freely along the ups and downs of senior year, with Lady Bird falling in love and giving the school play a shot. She's somehow not good at math like her dad, so maybe theater is her calling. Maybe that's what she's been looking for. Breaking news: it's not. She disappoints her mom and spends Thanksgiving with her boyfriend's family, only to watch the relationship crumble in an instant.
I remember lying in the grass under the same blanket of stars that Lady Bird did, telling someone I love them and thinking nothing else could possibly matter. Then suddenly, we aren't talking. Why aren't we talking?
The beauty of Gerwig's perspective as a thirty-something is that she can look back on the experience and laugh. Laugh at writing a guy's name on her bedroom wall and laugh about the painstakingly awkward conversations with her mom about having sex at a "good time." Adolescence is often hilarious, and Lady Bird is just that. Amidst all the raw and visceral emotion is Lady Bird's friend Julie drooling over the math teacher in front of his pregnant wife. It's throwing the teacher's grade book in the trash and buying a Playgirl magazine solely because she can. Gerwig handpicks and writes all of these moments flawlessly, as if they'll soon turn into memories that Lady Bird will fondly look back on.
In her solo directorial debut, she's also surprisingly slick with the camera. No one would have blamed her for "just close-ups of Saoirse Ronan's face" given her beauty, but Gerwig was very thoughtful with perspective. In a more playful scene filled with giggles, she shoots from above and captures an upside-down view of typical teenage girl dialogue. For the tense sequences, Ronan is often the sole focus. Lady Bird is masterful not only in its authenticity, but in its craftsmanship.
As senior year rolls along, Lady Bird has lost her virginity in a very unflattering and un-special way. It wasn't supposed to be like that. But with prom around the corner, she's in a tough spot. "Are we still going to prom together?" stands out as one of the most organic lines of the film. Such a letdown, such an awkward, hurtful letdown. But it's prom. It's the last dance.
I never went to prom. My senior year, the only girl on my mind was going with someone else, so there was no place for me. I never understood why it was so important. Lady Bird saw it differently, because as her new "friends" are ready to ditch and go to a house party instead, she decides it matters. She wants to go. In a night of rediscovery, she ends up dancing with Julie all night and taking silly prom pictures next to all the real couples.
I had this romantic idea of prom in my head, where I'd go with my girlfriend and I'd remember it for the rest of my life. Maybe Lady Bird will remember prom for the rest of her life in a totally different frame.
When she lives the dream and makes it to New York, all she can think about is Sacramento, the very place she'd been trying so desperately to escape. It was the same way for me. I made it to Penn State and now I joke with my friends about how much Tampa sucks. The truth is I miss it. It's pretentious, shitty, overcrowded, and too hot. But it's where I grew up. It's where my story unfolded.
High school was a winding roller coaster laced with bliss and heartbreak for me. Watching Lady Bird go through something so similar was a true emotional rush. I look back now and all I can do is thank my parents for what they gave me over those years. That's where the movie ends and where Christine grows up.
As a film enthusiast, I can respect what Lady Bird is. I can applaud the brilliance of Ronan and praise Gerwig for her extraordinary vision. It very well could win best picture and as a film, it would deserve it. But as a human, I can empathize with Lady Bird. As a 24 year old still trying to find myself, I can so fully and wholeheartedly relate to her. Nothing else makes me feel quite that way. Nothing else brings me to the verge of tears.
Lady Bird is an absolute coming-of-age marvel and like my adolescence, I'll never forget it.
