Kelly Reichardt is widely recognized as one of the most important and accomplished independent directors working today. Her films tackle a variety of themes and subjects, but each is uniquely stamped with her style – quiet, snail-paced minimalism, frequently with feminist characters and struggles, and more often than not set in Oregon. The lack of female characters aside, First Cow is a Kelly Reichardt film through and through.
Reichardt has tackled the old west genre before in Meek’s Cutoff and Certain Women, and here she returns to Oregonian frontier life in First Cow. This time, the setting is a bustling trading post, and the themes are capitalism, opportunity, and the American Dream. The story centers around two characters – the compassionate and gentle Otis Figowitz, nicknamed “Cookie” (played by John Magaro) and the savvy and resourceful King-Lu (Orion Lee). Both are alone in more ways than one, and finding each other, they form a pleasant and natural bond that becomes the lifeblood of this movie.
Magaro and Lee are both fantastic and draw you into their world. There are also compelling and nuanced portrayals of racial minorities – specifically Native Americans and Chinese American – especially when contrasted against the arrogance and pomp of white frontier leaders (the main leader is played by a fantastic Toby Jones). I’ve never seen a Chinese immigrant character as fascinating and fleshed out as King-Lu in an American period piece before.
For the last 100 years, we’ve been conditioned by most western films to expect riotous action and violence, whisky-swilling saloons, gun duels, and heroic rides into the sunset. In the first 25 minutes of this film, we encounter situations that would, in most other movies, lead to big action set pieces. Yet here, not much happens when we expect it to. It feels downright boring and quiet (literally – there is almost no dialogue) for long stretches. This readjusts our expectations and downshifts the pacing of the story to better fit the cadence of frontier life.
Throughout the film, Reichardt revels in her trademark minutiae. Where most films would cut to a group huddled around a campfire, we spend a good 45 seconds watching someone trying to light a fire. We also see how they used to make cigarettes back then, as well as wash clothes and bake cookies. It is mesmerizing, and we’re reminded that life wasn’t always lived at our current breakneck pace and 10 second attention spans. Putting these processes and details on the screen helps put us in the mindset of someone living in the 1800s. The plot does eventually get going and picks up steam if you are patient enough to get through the first half hour. It is worth it.
If it feels like nothing has been said about the plot itself, that’s because I don’t want to rob viewers of the pleasure of watching this story unfold. You may have seen the reviews describing “America’s first hipster food truck” or “the most tranquil and soft-spoken heist movie in the history of the genre.” But, going into this film for the first time, it is enough to know that First Cow is thoughtful but not pretentious, filled with precise storytelling and moments of real tension and suspense as well as humor and companionship. It’s the movie equivalent of sipping a glass of wine while reading a book by the fireplace – an increasing rarity in a world where most cinematic experiences are more like taking Jäger shots at a nightclub.
First Cow opens with a William Blake quote: “The bird a nest, the spider a web, and man friendship.” It’s hard to develop a meaningful friendship with someone if you haven’t spent time together, just enjoying each other’s presence. Reichardt shows us the same is true of a good film – in fact, the best of 2020, so far.
