Mistress America

Noah Baumbach's latest Mistress America is another addition to the director's oeuvre that explores real relationships uncommonly seen on film: in this case that between two soon-to-be stepsisters. That it's exciting to see a movie with two relatively unknown, or at least not necessarily commercially recognisable, female leads, is disappointing, but it's those leads in Lola Kirke and Greta Gerwig and their rapport that holds this film together — from its flimsy precedent to its exaggerated climax.

The climax comes too late to really be satisfying, a public moment of would-be-but-isn't catharsis. But there's also moments of wit (punchy one-liners! Relatively minor characters making funnies!) and grace, the story of a college-aged writer (Kirke) meeting her soon-to-be sister (Gerwig) and mining her for material hitting sometimes close to home. There's potential to explore that question of creativity: 'Who really owns our stories?' as well as the ethics of dramatising someone else's life narrative, but it's only skimmed over, in favour of illuminating characters that are fascinating but also painfully, and refreshingly, flawed. It's a question of identity: who we are, who we could be, who we are in the process of becoming? It's also unreservedly feminine, thanks to the touch of co-writer Gerwig, eschewing the idea that audiences need a male lead in order to be interested. We don't. And Mistress America is just one example of a film flourishing because of that lack.