J. R. Jones
For the most part, these narratives lack the kind of tension between character and setting that have made Reichardt's quiet, modest, measured films so compelling.
Certain Women is a film where a missed opportunity to connect, or a brief, surprising flash of empathy, feels crucial enough to pore over days after seeing it.
"Certain Women" requires patience from the viewer and isn't for anyone, but it's a film of quiet and lingering beauty.
Beautifully filmed and performed - the opening sequence using mirrors and doorframes to fuse the torsos of two characters to form a whole - is stunning, but in the end, the overall concept left me in the dark.
It's a tiptoe of a movie, but it's as elegant and graceful as the vast Montana landscape.
Reichardt lets her flawed, enigmatic heroines be, allowing them to keep struggling, persevering and relishing what can sometimes pass for tiny victories.
It's low-key, allusive, lit up with implied meanings without ever leading us by the hand.
Reichardt and her first-rate ensemble find intersections of the mundane and the mysterious all around this broad, blustery landscape.
The acting is good throughout the film, but Gladstone and Stewart are a step up from everyone else.