Showing Up (2023) Review: Unveiling the True Cost of Artistic Decency

Showing Up (2023) Review: Unveiling the True Cost of Artistic Decency

Kelly Reichardt’s Showing Up (2023) offers a poignant, understated glimpse into the often-unseen struggles of an artist balancing creation with the daily grind. The film centers on Lizzy, a sculptor on the cusp of a career-defining exhibition, yet perpetually entangled in a web of minor frustrations and familial obligations. More than just a character study, this cinematic piece subtly unpacks a profound question: what is the true cost of artistic decency? It’s a compelling inquiry into the sacrifices, both overt and insidious, that creative individuals make when they choose integrity, empathy, and a certain quiet morality over ruthless ambition. We delve into how these choices shape an artist’s journey, revealing the often-unacknowledged burdens of being a conscientious creator in a demanding world.

The quiet chaos of creative life

Reichardt masterfully strips away the romanticized veneer of artistic life, presenting it as a succession of mundane tasks punctuated by flashes of creative insight. Lizzy, played with a weary authenticity by Michelle Williams, is not a tortured genius in an attic; she’s an artist wrestling with clay in a perpetually chilly studio, constantly interrupted by a broken water heater, an injured pigeon, and the demands of family and neighbors. Her days are a collage of administrative duties, errands, and emotional labor, often pushing her actual creative work to the margins. The film emphasizes that “showing up” as an artist involves a vast amount of non-artistic labor. This quiet chaos illustrates how the very act of creating art is often embedded in a messy reality, where the artist’s commitment to their craft must contend with an endless stream of practical intrusions. It’s a portrayal that resonates deeply, highlighting the often-invisible struggle to carve out space and time for genuine artistic endeavor.

The weight of decency: artistic integrity vs. practical survival

At the heart of Lizzy’s predicament is her inherent decency—a quiet, almost reluctant conscientiousness that prevents her from being entirely self-serving. She helps her demanding family, cares for a pigeon injured by her landlord’s cat, and navigates complex relationships with a soft-spoken diplomacy. This isn’t a flaw, but in the cutthroat world of artistic ambition (even the understated one depicted), it often translates into a personal cost. Her decency pulls her away from her studio, consumes her mental energy, and sometimes leaves her feeling exploited or overlooked. The film suggests that while integrity is a virtue, it doesn’t always pay the bills or accelerate a career. Lizzy consistently chooses to do the “right thing” by others, or to maintain a quiet harmony, even when it directly impacts her own productivity or well-being. This subtle internal conflict between upholding personal values and pursuing professional success forms a central tension, demonstrating how the very qualities that make one a good person can complicate the path of an artist.

Community and competition: a delicate balance

Showing Up also explores the complex dynamics within an artistic community, depicting it not as an idyllic support network, but a collection of individuals with their own ambitions and insecurities. Lizzy’s relationship with her landlord and fellow artist, Jo, is particularly illuminating. Jo is seemingly more successful, living in a larger space and frequently absent for her own exhibitions. Yet, she is also dependent on Lizzy for various favors, including caring for the injured pigeon. This dynamic highlights the unspoken competition and occasional transactional nature of artistic relationships. While there’s camaraderie and shared understanding, there’s also a subtle underlying tension. Lizzy’s decency prevents her from openly resenting Jo or setting firmer boundaries, even as she witnesses Jo’s seemingly easier path to recognition. The film doesn’t paint Jo as malicious, but rather as another artist navigating her own survival, sometimes inadvertently at Lizzy’s expense. The table below illustrates some of the practical trade-offs Lizzy makes:

The unseen tally: mental, emotional, and financial costs

The “true cost” of artistic decency in Showing Up isn’t just about money, though Lizzy’s financial struggles are palpable. It’s a multifaceted burden that touches every aspect of her life. The mental cost manifests as quiet anxiety and exhaustion, the constant feeling of being stretched thin between artistic aspiration and mundane responsibilities. The emotional cost is paid in suppressed frustrations, the feeling of being taken for granted, and the quiet despair that can creep in when one’s efforts seem to yield little reward. Lizzy’s integrity prevents her from cutting corners, from demanding more, or from simply saying “no,” which in turn impacts her ability to fully immerse herself in her work. The film makes it clear that while her art is profound and honest, the very qualities that inform its depth also contribute to her personal hardship. This unseen tally profoundly affects her creative output, her relationships, and her overall well-being, suggesting that while decency is a moral compass, it can also be a heavy anchor in the turbulent waters of an artist’s life.

Showing Up ultimately serves as a contemplative mirror for anyone navigating the precarious balance between creative passion and personal ethics. Through Lizzy’s quiet struggles, we come to understand that artistic decency, while admirable, often comes with an invisible price tag. It’s paid in delayed recognition, strained resources, and the subtle erosion of personal peace, yet it preserves the artist’s soul. The film doesn’t offer easy answers or grand victories; instead, it validates the quiet, persistent effort of those who choose to create with integrity, even when the world seems to reward the opposite. It’s a powerful reminder that sometimes, simply showing up and doing the right thing—artistically and personally—is the most profound act of all, regardless of the cost.

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