Stunning Debut! ‘Janet Planet’ – Annie Baker’s Shining Childhood Masterpiece Unveiled!

“Janet Planet”, the breathtaking first film from the notably creative playwright, Annie Baker, may be perceived as extraordinarily subtle by some. Rather than propelling the story forward, dialogue is used sparingly to lend the narrative texture.

Pay attention, and you’ll discern a symphony of sound, masterfully balanced by designer Paul Hsu. The film is set in the pastoral wilderness of western Massachusetts, a familiar setting for Baker who hails from Amherst. “Janet Planet” is teeming with the natural sounds of country living, from the whispering trees to the chirping of crickets.

The story unfolds in the summer of 1991, with the heat and humidity almost perceptible. Fans futilely spin, attempting to alleviate the oppressive atmosphere. A dense lethargy has settled over the home of 11-year-old Lacy (Zoe Ziegler) and her mother, Janet (Julianne Nicholson), a licensed acupuncturist with a history of poorly chosen relationships. (Production designer Teresa Mastropierro creates a crunchy environment that echoes the spirit of Woodstock.)

As the film opens in the dead of night, Lacy is at camp, sneakily using a payphone to threaten her mother with suicide if she doesn’t come and get her. The emotional manipulation works. Janet swiftly arrives with her war-veteran boyfriend, Wayne (Will Patton), who doesn’t seem overly thrilled about the interruption to their summer plans. Wayne, who struggles to communicate effectively, is rarely seen as being happy about anything.

“Janet Planet” explores the strong bond between an accommodating, eager-to-please mother and her stubborn preteen daughter. It’s a unique love story, which will only have a happy ending if there is a separation. Lacy finds herself caught in a series of triangles with her mother, whose attention she wishes to monopolize. Yet, her future hinges on how effectively she can move beyond the family dynamic Freud referred to as the “family romance”.

Despite the film’s title being “Janet Planet”, it’s Lacy’s story. Baker attentively tracks the girl’s emotional development with the watchful eye of a horticulturist. The camera never attempts to extract more from Lacy than what is authentically present in the moment. Childhood has rarely been presented as so unyielding.

Ziegler’s Lacy, who is inflexibly and grumpily herself, doesn’t pander to anyone. Unlike Janet, a nurturing mother figure who has a magnetic pull on those around her, Lacy is too engrossed in her own life’s puzzle to care about how she impacts others.

Maturing is a slow process, fraught with false starts and not bound by any schedule. Baker, whose Pulitzer Prize-winning 2013 play, “The Flick”, focused on the incidental conversations of employees at a failing art-house cinema in Worcester County, Mass., isn’t one to rush things. In “Janet Planet”, even the air itself appears to pulsate with the possibility of endless time.

Since smartphones and the internet are still a few years away, Lacy has more opportunities to gain from the gift of monotony. Imagination rushes in to occupy the void not yet filled by external distractions.

Baker focuses on the mundane: blintzes heating in the microwave, the tacky comforts of Lacy’s systematic piano teacher’s home. A visit to a department store to meet Wayne’s young daughter, Sequoia (Edie Moon Kearns), transforms into a frolic through a wonderland of merchandise displays and fast-food stands.

Lacy has an annoying habit of asserting her presence, of marking her territory with whatever resources are available. In the first segment of the film dedicated to Wayne (the movie is divided into chapters named after Janet’s various partners), Lacy practices exasperatingly repetitive exercises on her basic electronic keyboard. It’s her way of reminding the adults that she isn’t going anywhere.

In the film’s middle segment revolving around Regina (Sophie Okonedo), a former theater friend of Janet’s, who becomes a roommate after Wayne is kicked out, Lacy becomes fascinated by the exotic shampoo that has found its way into the bathroom. She lavishly applies this nectar to her own hair, leaving traces of her scented hair on the shower wall to ensure Regina notices this minor theft. Or perhaps as a way of leaving pieces of herself behind for her mother, who one night plucked out a few strands from her own head to comfort Lacy for not sleeping with her the entire night.

By the time Avi (Elias Koteas), the director of the experimental puppet group that Regina has escaped from, begins wooing Janet, Lacy is more inclined to be left to her own devices. Alone in her room with her collection of makeshift miniature dolls, she is guided by the whims of her imagination. Progress doesn’t happen in great leaps, but there are hints of movement on Lacy’s emotional growth chart.

As a dramatist, Baker wants the audience to become conscious of their own patterns of focus and distraction. The unhurried pacing of her work can be challenging on stage. But in a movie, where such lingering might be even less welcome, the effect is strangely mesmerizing. The plot isn’t used as a lure. A certain degree of drift is expected. Non-sequiturs coexist with linear reasoning. The peculiar, the strange, and the incongruous are essential elements of the Baker universe. Out of nowhere, there’s a bizarre outdoor puppet theater performance by a group that behaves like a New Age cult.

The scene isn’t pointless: Janet reconnects with Regina after attending a show by the company’s latest metaphysical happening with an awestruck Lacy by her side. Avi, the theatrical leader, follows in Regina’s path. What might seem aimless to the point of randomness is actually quite intentional.

Baker exerts instinctive control over what can be termed as psychological music. She closely observes the attraction and conflict among her characters. At stake are those subtle shifts in relationships that can spark transformation. Change is an interactive event. The self gains clearer definition through the encounter with difference.

We are invited to glimpse reality through Lacy’s perfectly normal self-centeredness. Baker and cinematographer Maria von Hausswolff manipulate perception with subjective camerawork. When Janet is in bed with Wayne, Lacy puzzles over a tangle of limbs. Janet’s freckled legs make a later appearance as Lacy takes refuge on the floor from adult authority.

Sometimes the disorienting perspective is applied more universally. At times, Lacy is filmed in such a way that we cannot immediately identify her or determine her exact location. When Janet and Regina take ecstasy at home and stumble into disagreement, the camera captures their faces in puzzle-like configurations that mirror their disjointed reality.

Baker doesn’t elucidate her imagery any more than she clarifies the meaning of her dialogue. She invites us to let go of our preconceptions and surrender to the curiosity before us.

The film revels in the peculiarities of the cast. Nicholson’s unadorned beauty, as ripe for exploration as a remote landscape, permeates the film as much as Ziegler’s mutable aura. The wild stillness of Patton’s Wayne occasionally reveals a hint of whimsical eccentricity that heightens the sense of threat. The smoky timbre of Okonedo’s voice lends Regina a regal presence, despite her unstable circumstances. Koteas’ Avi, who pontificates like a college professor turned messiah, injects a self-assured masculinity into the character’s mystical ruminations.

As is common in Baker’s work, there is some tension over how the drama will transition from plotless daydream to resolution. Here, the question becomes part of the viewing experience: How can a film that is so much about the experience of time wrap up satisfactorily without feeling excessively contrived or abruptly unsatisfying?

There are instances when Baker herself seems uncertain about how to proceed, moments when the film becomes overly explanatory, as when Janet unexpectedly mentions her “Holocaust survivor father and angry mother,” or stylistically unclear, as when the men in the film are portrayed as quasi-ghosts.

No matter: The real story is between Janet and Lacy and how they will untangle their intertwined identities. After Lacy provokes a sick Wayne into a violent outburst, Janet asks her daughter what she should do. Lacy calmly tells her that she will have to break up with him. Janet heeds this wise counsel, but no one will be able to instruct Lacy on how to mature.

That is a lesson only time can impart. Fortunately, Lacy, like her director who has transitioned from playwright to filmmaker, is a fast learner. “Janet Planet” marks a stellar debut for Baker, who not only adapts her artistry for the screen but also uncovers a brand-new landscape for her unique creativity.