Montana Story‘s Intimate Musings Fade Away on the Great Plains
An intimate drama about a family disbanded by abuse, Montana Story is superbly acted, but lacks a formidable narrative capable of carrying its protagonists. Written and directed by Scott McGehee and David Siegel, whose body of work includes What Masie Knew and The Deep End, their latest feature feels too self-contained to truly shine. While it effectively emulates the peaceful, slow pace of living on the range (as long as you’ve got plenty of hired help, that is), the story is itself a sparse build-up for an emotional blowout that feels overwrought in contrast to the film’s otherwise subdued tone. Montana Story works best when its two leads are allowed to traverse the subtleties of unresolved tension, encroaching upon and retreating from each other’s presence in order to test boundaries that have long since crumbled. Even if the script doesn’t quite sparkle, the film’s greatest achievements are in its tiniest details—particularly the delicate emotional dance executed by its central duo.
After his father suffers a stroke and falls comatose, Cal (Owen Teague) takes it upon himself to get his old man’s affairs in order. He shoulders each task with weary resolve, though he also carries an unassured sadness about each major decision. Cal attempts to settle the mess of his once affluent father’s bankruptcy, the fate of the ranch’s few remaining animals, and the firing of the family’s long-time housekeeper Valentina (Kimberly Guerrero). One thing he doesn’t account for, though, is the return of his estranged sister Erin (Haley Lu Richardson), who left seven years ago and hasn’t returned since.
Cal’s façade of relative cool immediately begins to crack, conceding to childhood insecurity and pain. He’d been trying for years to get in touch with Erin, but could never find any information regarding her phone number, address or general wellbeing. Seeing her back on the homestead they grew up on reopens old wounds that are somehow still fresh, and the siblings must reckon with what their mutual absence has meant for each other—and how losing their father will no doubt exacerbate whatever chasm has grown between them.
Richardson is given the meatier of the two roles, airing inconsequential grievances about her homecoming while also remaining intensely guarded. Meanwhile, Teague consistently channels an introverted complexity for Cal, never betraying much about his honest attitudes toward any given situation. Though he disagrees with Erin’s decision to buy a beat-up truck and a horse trailer in order to drive her 25-year-old horse Mr. T up to New York (where she’s been secretly residing in the Hudson Valley), Cal goes along with his sister to test out the ancient, crappy pick-up and pay the owner. Predictably, it only gets them halfway home before it sputters out on the side of the road. But instead of saying “I told you so,” he accompanies Erin to a beloved natural landmark that they visited as children.
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