Lady Bird Film Screening + Greta Gerwig


For weeks I've been hearing about the colorful audacity of the film Lady Bird, directed by Greta Gerwig. On Friday I attended a screening at the Roxy Theater down in Tribeca, impressed by the lights and the jazz band on the walk to the screening room. The film itself was moving, for not many films give witness to the often complicated and tense dynamic of mother-daughter relationships. Set in 2002, the film navigates the path of a post 9/11 environment with an acute accuracy that reminded me of what the world was before iphones, Facebook and instagram. It was bewitching to observe the scenes between Lady Bird (played by Soirse Ronan) and her mother ( with actress Laurie Metcalf). It is a true accomplishment for a film that makes me want to cry; it is usually when a film commands my attention even when it's uncomfortable. The film guides us through the anguish of Lady Bird, who at 17, reminds us how hard it can to be young and make decisions that sometimes have to disappoint our mothers and fathers in order to live our authentic life.  I'm not certain if it's because of the holiday's, or passing the one year mark of living in New York City, but for most of the film I had to hold back from weeping in the dark of the theater. So many times while watching Lady Bird make mistakes and then try to make it better did it feel like an echo of all the decisions that led me to New York. Living in three different countries and 5 different cities gave me insight to a gypsy life that was beautiful and difficult, showing me that I wanted to make roots in a place that could become a home, but many times it means leaving your family and making mistakes along the way. With my love for films, I have realized that the ones I remember best are the films that linger in my own memories, reminding me of the way time changes you. I am not who I used to be. After the Q&A, I left the theater and walked into the cold of New York. I heard a saxophone reverberate from inside as the door shut behind me. I held my coat close heading to the subway, thinking of the passing of time and my mother and being 17 and being lost and what it means to love someone even when you don't agree. It kept me warm while I walked to the train. 

{Thank you to The Wing for such an exceptional event}