Having left her husband, Shaw’s daughter moves in with her at the family’s Manhattan apartment and soon tensions arise – wry, sweet, melancholic but somewhat insubstantial
F
iona Shaw finds some tremendous form in this upmarket dramedy of mother-daughter tension and first-world problems, and Katherine Waterston is (as ever) really good. There’s plenty of amusement and wry, sophisticated sadness here, though co-writer and director Gaby Dellal has confected what is, in the end, a pretty middleweight movie.
Shaw plays Kit, an elegant and wealthy widow living in a handsome apartment on Park Avenue in midtown Manhattan, known for her witty disdain for those less stylish than herself and about to publish a memoir of life with her late husband, a collector of Chinese art. Out of the blue her grown up daughter Charlotte (Waterston) appears, having run out on her abusive rancher husband; she intends to stay for a while with her mother in her childhood Park Avenue home while she figures things out.
Charlotte instantly regresses to her teen self, all to the satirically polite dismay of her mother, who appears to suggest that it would be better if Charlotte simply returned to her husband and somehow made this marriage of hers work. As things progress, the mother-daughter odd couple relationship becomes spikier and more intense as Charlotte realises that Kit’s airy, haughty detachment and imperious, droll mannerisms mask a deeper pain – although it’s quite extraordinary that Charlotte hasn’t guessed what’s physically wrong before this.
