A Land Re-explored in First Cow

Despite living in the enveloping beauty of the Pacific Northwest for the past seven years, I didn't encounter any of Kelly Reichardt's films until 2020. My first one, Meek's Cutoff, was one I admired but didn't love; the attention--and compassion--to detail was evident, but it felt a bit too formal an exercise. But I was intrigued, wanting to encounter more, ready to be on her wavelength. Behold, First Cow, my favorite film of 2020.

First Cow is a remarkable achievement: a film with grand, probing ideas; a film of mundane, tiny human stories. A story loaded with critiques both hard and soft of capitalism and cultural masculinity; a camera poised with deep compassion for each of its subjects.

John Magaro and Orion Lee both deserve praise for their intimately inflected characters. Together, they create a portrayal of friendship for the ages: they way they share their ideas and their lives with each other, the way they seek to cultivate not only a business (indeed, such is their downfall) but a home. They identify not only financial opportunities but also human needs, as when Magaro's Cookie quietly begins sweeping and tidying Orion's small home. It is a beautiful counterpoint to so many depictions of masculinity and friendship given in movies.

Likewise, Toby Jones' Chief Factor is complex and intimidating in just the right ways--there's no threat to how he carries himself, but the intimidation is inherent to the institutions around him.

But credit where credit's ultimately due. The performances and the story would be simply notable if not for Reichardt's filmmaking. Again, her attention and compassion for the people, the place, and the time in which her story is set breathe through each frame. Perhaps no one these days is making films as rooted as Reichardt. (Am I biased? Sure!)

First Cow also provided me with the most unintentionally funny moment of the year: "Sorry about your husband."