Causeway Review – IGN

Written by adrina

Written by Elizabeth Sanders, Luke Goebel and Ottessa Moshfegh, the film begins immediately after Lynsey’s return. Barely able to move, she requires the help of a professional caretaker, Sharon (Jayne Houdyshell), an elderly woman who has seen people in Lynsey’s condition. However, her sweet dynamic as Lynsey walks again, talks and brushes her teeth ends up being strangely superficial, as the timeline jumps forward many times in quick succession and her recovery breaks down, although not enough that it feels like a prologue (let alone a montage). The film would be better off without that non-binding 20-minute segment, or perhaps a shorter version of it, since little of Lynsey’s arduous physical therapy informs her eventual narrative, which doesn’t actually begin until she returns to her childhood home. However, these first scenes offer Lawrence the opportunity to live fully in Lynsey’s skin. It’s like witnessing an actor’s process rather than a character’s journey, but what a process it is as Lynsey’s stillness, silence and outrage compel Lawrence to look inward as she contemplates a future in that she may never feel complete.

Causeway is Neugebauer’s feature film debut. Coming from the theatrical world, her camera work is reminiscent of a stage stillness, but this quality of observation initially seems more distancing than revealing. The responsibility rests with Lawrence’s physicality to tell the story of how Lynsey feels as she re-enters the rooms where she grew up. She erects conversational barriers between herself and her mother (Linda Emond) – a dynamic whose past complications are teased and mentioned rather than meaningfully explored – and she takes a job cleaning the pool, which she sees as a temporary measure before returning home to the Middle East. However, their journey to get there is largely background related; it’s subject to her doctor’s (Stephen McKinley Henderson) approval, but her appointments are broken up by long stretches where there’s little point in her working toward a physical or emotional goal in particular. Coupled with the lack of discernible storytelling stylizations – i.e., something that binds us visually or aurally to Lynsey’s perspective – the result is passivity, save for the few moments when Lawrence intrigues with her listless attitude or expression, or even her slightly unsteady gait generated. The ground beneath her always feels uncertain, but it’s the film’s only real uncertainty when Lynsey moves home.

However, this slowly changes when her truck breaks down and she encounters James. Small favors soon turn into meeting places, which briefly devolve into a will-they-won’t-they that Lynsey quickly puts an end to, making room for a blossoming friendship in which these two cautious people slowly begin to reveal vulnerable parts of themselves to reveal. Neugebauer’s restraint helps here. Henry’s performance is equally low-key, as James has long since buried his secrets and regrets under beer and a sympathetic facade (gosh, his laughter is contagious), but when it comes time to close his home – and with it his fractured past explore, Neugebauer allows The walls and the small details speak for themselves as both Lynsey and the camera absorb the carefully crafted setting and all its dramatic implications.

Their dynamic is by no means bubbly or bubbly, but they all come alive in their own way when they’re around, even if it’s for reasons as morbid as connecting with each other’s most traumatic moments and the burdens they each carry, happens. Unfortunately, that mutual understanding also comes in different ways — Lynsey gains a new perspective on her past and her mother, but little of it is rooted in her time spent with James — and the more they reveal about themselves, the more they come film’s missed opportunities.

There are few times that Causeway aesthetically embodies Lynsey’s point of view. One in particular is a moment of sudden desperation, compounded by harsh noises as she gets behind the wheel of her truck. Another poses the possibility of her PTSD raising her head by filming a simple jaunt with a reduced shutter angle (resulting in a stroboscopic effect, like the opening action scene of The soldier James Ryan). Those flourishes are quickly forgotten, however, even though both Lynsey and James suffered their respective traumas in road vehicles, a commonality that Causeway doesn’t take into account despite spending most of the film driving around.

It’s one of several threads hanging in the air as Causeway approaches its hesitant conclusion, where the outcome doesn’t really matter as only hints of a story have unfolded. Lynsey’s confrontation with her past has the finesse of a superhero TV show – that is, it features clearly spoken dialogue about trauma and little more – but even its most abstract and representative elements are made tangible by Lawrence. Her performance is not just magnetic but alchemical, carving textual gold out of scenes that would otherwise be dull as lead, thanks to some of the most measured and seductive work of any actress this year. With every strained movement and hesitant interaction, Lynsey comes into its own, though the film rarely feels more than half-baked around her.