Every single performance shines in Causeway—from its two leads all the way down to the minor players who only appear in a handful of scenes. Jennifer Lawrence stars as Lynsey, an Army Corps of Engineers veteran struggling to recover from an explosion in Afghanistan. Back home in New Orleans, living with the mother she keeps at a purposeful distance, she finds solace in a new relationship with James, a car mechanic (Bryan Tyree Henry) who is carrying his own trauma, both physical and emotional. It’s fascinating to watch Lawrence play a character sapped of the vitality and forcefulness that drives so many of her performances; there’s an interiority here that marks this as some of her best work. Tyree Henry, meanwhile, is one of those presences onscreen who knows how to be still and let the movie settle around him (rather than chase after the movie). He’s mesmerizing—and was nominated for Best Supporting Actor. Equally strong are Linda Emond as Lynsey’s maddening mother; Jayne Houdyshell as the angelically down-to-earth caretaker who watches over Lynsey in the movie’s opening section; and, in a single, late-film scene, Russell Harvard as her deaf, estranged brother, who has learned to carry his own trauma with a soft sense of peace. So many of the scenes in Causeway simply consist of two people quietly sharing some time and space, which director Lila Neugebauer frames with impressive filmmaking patience. I wish the screenplay—by Ottessa Moshfegh, Luke Goebel, and Elizabeth Sanders—had a better handle on what it wanted to do with Lynsey and James’ relationship; it’s fine for the audience to experience ambiguity, but some of the scenarios here seem uncertain in their very construction. Still, in the moment of each scene, Lawrence and Tyree Henry form a connection that’s life-giving, playing two people for whom genuine companionship is as vital as oxygen.
(2/25/2023)
