River of Grass

When it comes to discussing the films of Kelly Reichardt, most people tend to forget about River of Grass, her debut feature from 1994, a whole 12 years before her sophomore effort, Old Joy, would put her on many critics’ radars. Thanks to the collaborative efforts of Oscilloscope Laboratories, Sundance, UCLA Film and Television Archive, TIFF and a host of Kickstarter backers, though, Reichardt’s first film is about to reenter the cinematic landscape in a new digital restoration—and what a striking opening salvo it is, both on its own terms and in light of her later work.
Certainly, anyone expecting the social consciousness of Old Joy, Wendy and Lucy and Night Moves will be thrown for a loop by the purely genre-based leanings of River of Grass. It’s essentially a variation on They Live By Night, Gun Crazy, Bonnie and Clyde and other such lovers-on-the-run pictures, with a noirish mystery thread revolving around cop Jimmy Ryder (Dick Russell), the oblivious father of one of the escaped lovers, Cozy (Lisa Bowman). But the film evinces other stylistic debts that Reichardt wouldn’t pursue quite as strongly in her later films: most notably to Badlands in its voiceover narration—Cozy’s, in this case—to both support and contradict the action shown onscreen.
That is not to say that Reichardt’s debut is totally bereft of signs of the films to come. One unexpected montage in the middle of the film—of a series of album covers, all of them featuring women in romantic and/or sexually suggestive poses—hints at the more overtly feminist bent of her later work. And on a broader level, River of Grass’ vivid evocation of ennui—a mood she conjures through her use of sultry jazz music on the soundtrack and a deliberately lackadaisical pace—would find a grander historical echo in her Western Meek’s Cutoff, similarly invested in conveying characters who are lost both physically and psychologically.