Swanberg's film plays well to the strengths of Jane Adams who is just revelatory here in her portrayal of a woman who has yet to find the new identity that age has presented her especially when faced with the visit of a young niece who seems to embody a younger version of herself. It's a slight but often wise script where nothing really happens on the surface but there is a sufficient subtext underneath.
I'm curious about the intense solipsism of U.S. indies. Are there no "others" at all in California? Ostensibly about a woman's mid-life crisis, the film is a bunch of self-indulgent navel gazing by another male director using a women's talent as his egotistical prop. Under the light of the sun, this just feels so, so irrelevant. Maybe Adams can go organize around the state's prison industrial complex or something?
Light as the smoothies Adams makes constantly in her condo's blender, I really liked the mumblecore movie despite being bereft of much plot. A true SoCal film with great shots of the ocean, the pink-blue sky and paddleboarders, Swanberg's film makes you think about how this lifestyle is fleeting and transitory, as the waves continue to erode the beach. Adams' loneliness and anguish over a fading career is palpable.