Mark (Daniel London) is about to become a father. One afternoon, he gets a call from an old friend, Kurt (Will Oldham), who has just arrived in town and wants Mark to accompany him on a journey to the Bagby Hot Springs, a natural wonder that is well-hidden in the forests of their native Oregon. Mark reluctantly accepts (despite clear resistance from his heavily-pregnant wife), and the duo set off, with Mark’s adorable dog Lucy in tow. Along the way, the two old friends discuss their lives, and while they are undoubtedly happy to see each other again after so long, it is clear that despite their long friendship, they have taken different directions and are living very different lives. Kurt’s life as a scruffy bohemian clashes with Mark’s more traditional suburban life, and on this brief but pivotal journey, they realize that they have unfortunately drifted apart – and while there’s certainly no animosity, there’s a different dynamic in their friendship that has made it lose the strength it had in their earlier days. Yet, can old friends manage to find new joy in their renewed companionship?
Kelly Reichardt is the master of contemporary American realism – her films are simple, straightforward and not weighed down by any unnecessary material. In her sophomore feature film, Old Joy, we see the journey of two old friends to some hot springs in Oregon, and it shows their pursuit of some deeper meaning to their lives. Like with the director’s other films, Old Joy is a meditative piece, a fascinating psychological study of two ordinary individuals and their trials and tribulations – and much like other films helmed by Reichardt, it is a character-driven work, one that relies heavily on the work of the two leads, who take the sole focus of the film throughout. Old Joy may not be the revisionist masterwork that was Meek’s Cutoff, or the towering feminist anthology Certain Women, but it is a wonderful, unassuming masterpiece of modern American independent filmmaking, and just proves that Reichardt has always been at the very top of her craft when it comes to these poignant, meaningful doses of reality, which she presents with such unfettered finesse, as well as finding the beauty in reality. Old Joy may not be a film that inspires much conventional excitement, but its gorgeous cinematography, and its powerful story, more than compensates when looking at this as a piece of contemporary Americana.
What initially drew me to Old Joy wasn’t Reichardt’s involvement (I found this out later on in the process of seeking it out), but rather the fact that one of the two leading roles was played by Will Oldham, who is otherwise known as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, one of indie music’s most eccentric, unique performers. His very first leading role after a string of unsuccessful attempts to break into the industry in the 1980s, much of Old Joy is built on Oldham’s offbeat demeanour, and his ability to tell a story like no one else (one is reminded of his recent work in David Lowery’s A Ghost Story, wherein only a single scene, he delivers an impactful monologue that really ties the film together). Daniel London is good, but he is merely the straight man to Oldham’s eccentric Kurt, with much of the film consisting of Oldham ruminating on the past, delivering passionate accounts of the most arbitrary events that would have otherwise been seen as inconsequential had the underlying themes of the film not been accounted for. It is a very simple performance, and not one that is traditionally considered noteworthy, as there is a complete lack of any conventional literary development to either of these characters – but its in this simplicity that Old Joy manages to be so captivating in terms of its two leads. Kurt and Mark are regular men, going on a small road trip. It isn’t anything most people have not done, and Reichardt, to her credit, is one of the greatest contemporary filmmakers when it comes to representing reality and creating authentic characters that mirror real people. It is subtle but impressive work from both leads, and with the exception of a few small, single-scene performances scattered throughout, they are the only characters who converse and are developed at all, which is a daunting task for any actor, but certainly one that has the potential to be some of their best work.
If there was ever a filmmaker who defined the concept of “films about nothing”, it would certainly be Reichardt. Her brand of minimalistic filmmaking is extraordinary, and through her small handful of films, she has managed to tell compelling stories without resorting to anything other than pure, character-driven narratives that rely solely on the script and the way the actors interpret what they’re given. Yet, beneath the rather simple exteriors, there are countless significant themes that may not be evident at first, but eventually, manifest into something by the end of the film. Old Joy is Reichardt’s interpretation of the road movie, a genre beloved by many and popularized in a series of highly-stylized, exuberant works that spanned from the late 1960s to the early 1990s. Much like these films, Old Joy sees some characters going on a journey, both physically and metaphysically, encountering challenges (internal and external) and overcoming them before finally reaching their final destination. Unlike most of these films, Old Joy is very quiet, meditative and simple, and features a complete lack of the adrenaline-driven excitement that makes the road movie so captivating – but this film is still so endlessly compelling on its own terms, because it finds the underlying humanity in a genre that is often quite superficial. The emphasis here is less on the physical journey and more on the personal voyage of self-discovery, and by reevaluation the concept of the road movie, Reichardt reinvents it as a poignant mode of storytelling, where the progress of the vehicle facilitates the machinations of the mind, and start to develop them into something very special.
In understanding Old Joy and its themes, we can begin by looking at the title. The concept of “old joy” is not one that is explicitly stated anywhere in the film, and at the outset, it would appear to be quite an abstract title. However, as this film progresses, we come to understand the underlying meaning behind this title – we are introduced to two men, who are old friends who still remain on good terms, albeit not with the same intense friendship as before. An attempt to replicate their days of childish happiness and reckless abandon are not that successful, with both Kurt and Mark realizing that while they may not be on bad terms, they have clearly grown apart into separate individuals, bound together only by their shared friendship from years past and that whatever they are searching for, they’re not going to find it. Their journey isn’t only to reach the hot springs, but rather to rediscover their childhood innocence, and evoke the same “old joy” that they felt years before. Unfortunately, whatever their “old joy” entailed, it has now ceased to exist, and rather whatever spark they used to have has now faded. This isn’t to say their friendship can’t take on a new, more mature form – but the underlying sadness present throughout this film, and how Reichardt constructs Old Joy as a melancholy exercise in memory is quite astonishing, and makes for truly enthralling, but also deeply desolate storytelling.
Running at a mere 73 minutes, Old Joy is a brief but meaningful journey into the mind of two ordinary men trying to rekindle a friendship from years before, and failing to do so. A contemporary odyssey into the roots of a friendship (and if one scene in this film is to be believed, perhaps a bit more than that), Kelly Reichardt has constructed a beautiful and poetic film about companionship, as well as the loneliness that comes with growing up and outgrowing your childhood friends. Will Oldham is wonderful as the verbose hippie who sets the entire trip up, and Daniel London is great as his quiet, reserved companion who goes on this adventure to escape his own routine life, but only momentarily. Old Joy is not a film that will evoke much excitement from those not accustomed to the director’s minimalistic style and unique approach to telling stories through the most simple means available, but it does have a quaint charm to it that allows it to be quite compelling. Old Joy is a meaningful film that will most likely engage viewers with its unique style of storytelling and its remarkable honesty. Reichardt has helped redefine neo-realism in a contemporary context, and much like the realist films of the past, Old Joy is impactful without the need of anything other than great performances and a wonderful story – and it has both of them, in an abundance.
