Old Joy

Old Joy may be built around a road trip, but it's also a movie about two roads -- and two souls -- diverging.

You may find yourself asking whether anything's going to happen. But for those who can tolerate a slow-brewing movie, [director] Reichardt's work provides sufficient rewards.

Subdued, artistic, with beautifully nuanced performances that are as true as they are often elusive of commercial triumph.

Such watchful reticence takes a bold, confident filmmaker.

At just 76 minutes, Old Joy is a minimalist film, but illuminating, bittersweet, gentle and deeply alive.

The characters stayed with me, and I'm glad I took a second look now that it's opening for a two-week run at Northwest Film Forum. This time around, its sense of humor seemed much more effective -- as did its less-is-more style.

Old Joy is a weaker effort than Meek's Cutoff and Wendy and Lucy, sure, but still a key early step in the career of this impressive filmmaker.

Interesting, but hardly the lo-fi triumph its reputation suggests.

There are no big revelatory moments. There's no cliched conflict. But don't make the mistake of then assuming that Old Joy has no drama.

With exquisite tenderness and delicacy, Old Joy fluidly captures the all-too-frequent occurrence of friends drifting apart as their lives branch off in different directions.

Annoying, blank, and bereft of any narrative arc "Old Joy" has nothing familiar or enchanting to recommend it.

The film is like a haiku that one can only interpret through their own experience.