‘Janet Planet’ Review: Annie Baker’s hypnotic, mother-daughter portrait is a masterpiece debut

Jul 8

Preview

Annie Baker’s playwriting career was something I was ambivalent about before seeing Janet Planet. Her background became transparent within the deeply emotional articulation of dialogue exchanges between her Massachusetts-based characters matched with naturalistic, subtle character acting. I don’t express this with negativity, for some of my favorite films are from playwrights who made their transition from stage to film with grace. Celine Song is the latest example. Her transcendent first feature, Past Lives, stood out as my top 2023 film. Baker is the newest addition to the “phenomenal playwright turned phenomenal director” canon as her debut Janet Planet is a majestic, shattering portrait that hit too viscerally close to home.

***Photos courtesy of A24***

**PG13:** Brief strong language, some drug use and thematic elements.
**Runtime:** 1 Hr and 50 Minutes
**Production Companies:** BBC Film, Present Company
**Distributor:** A24
**Director:** Annie Baker
**Writer:** Annie Baker
**Cast:** Julianne Nicholson, Zoe Ziegler, Elias Koteas, Will Patton, Sophie Okonedo
**Release Date:** June 21, 2024

Western Massachusetts, 1991, 11-year-old Lacy (Zoe Ziegler) drops her dreadful summer camp in favor of an at-home summer with her single, acupuncturist mother Janet (Julianne Nicholson). Throughout the heat of the season, Lacy witnesses her mom’s connections with three people who visit her orbit. In her silent but deep observations and unadulterated conversations with her mom, Lacy endures Janet’s series of patterned codependent relationships.

Through Janet Planet, Baker poses a question that many children who grew up with single moms must confront at a crucial time in their lives: are we a product of our mom’s insecurities? If so, how do we navigate their troubling codependent relationships once we consciously become aware of them? Baker’s portrait analyzes this with a gentle approach and an inviting, slow-burning rhythm.

Her semi-autobiographical counterpart is Lacy, the complete embodiment of precociousness in a queer, ginger-haired, preteen girl’s body: independent, observant, wise beyond her age, curious about advanced subject matters, and is treated like an adult by everyone around her, Janet included. Despite having nobody in her age range in this West Mass terrain, she knows how to keep herself entertained in her mother's (emotional) absence. Lacy often dramatizes her emotions starting from the hilarious (and far too relatable as a former precocious lonely child) first scene, in which she calls Janet from summer camp, threatening that she will kill herself if she isn't picked up. The only resemblance to childish normalcy pertains to how she treats her stash of porcelain and wooden dolls with loving, imaginative care; before bed, she turns her dolls on their sides and snuggles them with tin foil.

Baker elaborates on Lacy and her mom’s growing distance through the three self-indulgent people Janet gets involved with. There's an unspoken sense of childhood robbery in motion. While non-confrontational about Janet's codependent patterns, often playing as a third wheel to every interaction her mom shares with these people, Lacy expresses her discontent with her life and surroundings through angst-driven and soft-spoken lines. The visceral elements are displayed in quiet moments where Lacy requests motherly affection but is often met with reticence. Even if one would consider 11 years old too old of an age to still be in bed with their mom, the seeds of early arrested development are planted.

The film’s bubbled emotions are sharpened by DP Maria von Hausswolff's hypnotic framework set within a stunning yet isolating New England environment. She captures a camcorder home video feel with intimate close-ups that resemble a hazy memory as facial features are often cropped off the 16mm lens. Hausswolff's composition is genius as she plays a game of Where's Waldo with Lacy as you're either set in Lacy's lens or eavesdropping on the adult spaces that you'd hope Lacy wouldn't be around (only to find out that she was there the whole time). This had me fighting back tears, wanting to cry for Lacy in ways she wouldn't for herself. Her childhood portrait drew remarkably close to my sisters and me as we coped with our then-single mom's poor decision-making and codependency on men during our upbringing. It's a conversation I never want to touch with a ten-inch pole outside of a therapist's office, but seeing it so multicolored in thoughtful dialogue-heavy conversations grounded in realism through these lived-in characters elicited an intense reaction.

With each chapter, Baker delves deeper into the grueling isolation the two leads endure as they operate on separate orbits that hardly ever seem to find each other. As we witness Janet's damaging yet complicated self-image issues contending with Lacy's development, some of the wildest, yet richest scenes of unfiltered vulnerability stir, leaving you utterly speechless.

Man, does Janet Planet’s ensemble give this sneaky, soul-crushing portrait its legs. Where the heck did Zoe Ziegler come from?! This marks the newcomer's first film and Ziegler gives one of the most startling leading performances I've seen all year, more captivating than many seasoned pros. She conveys a complex portrayal of privately held resentment and innocence, as naturalistic as Baker's atmosphere. In Ziegler's subtle, elusive glares observing her mom's flimsy romantic escapades, I saw so many traces of my younger self, keeping my thoughts of my mom's partners at bay. The look Ziegler gives at the film's finale is a haunting, telling reaction that will stay rent-free in my head all year.

Julianne Nicholson is remarkable as the titular Janet, a perfect portrayal of self-destructive and oblivious. She graces her character with insatiable compassion that always renders Janet's complexities even at her character's most careless actions. Supporting players like Sophie Okonedo stand out as Regina, a woman who enters Janet and Lacy's orbit and has a memorable monologue that adds dimension to the film's stifled upbringing motif.

Janet Planet is one of the year’s most visceral cinematic experiences. If you had a complicated relationship with a single mom during childhood this will read you for filth and force you to confront your upbringing, refusing to hold your hand in the process. It’s a poetic slice-of-life laced with strong wit and a soul-crushing backbone that leaves you either wanting more or never wanting to live in this familiar world again.