The title of this small-scale comedy drama alludes to an aspect of creativity that isn’t inherently cinematic but which is necessary if you’re going to make anything: just showing up and doing the work. Kelly Reichardt’s filmmaking is in keeping with that focus: this is a gentle movie, full of the patience the art-making process requires and which has always characterized her contributions to “slow cinema.” 

The film is set in a small creative community where the prickly Lizzy (Michelle Williams) works in administration at an arts center and perfects her sculptures for her upcoming solo show. Her efforts are hampered by small daily dramas, though, like the pigeon whose wing her naughty kitty has broken or the friends of her father who lightly exploit his hospitality. And then there’s her neighbor and landlord Jo (Hong Chau), a rising star of an artist who inspires thorny feelings of inadequacy in the only moderately successful Lizzy. Reichardt and Williams deftly explore these insecurities, subtly suggesting that one-sided resentments like Lizzy’s are easily dissolved with a bit of human connection. These gentle moments of insight are rewarding, but it should be noted that your mileage may vary with Showing Up’s insular art world focus and Reichardt’s more unhurried-than-ever pace.

Naturally, the film spends a good deal of its more observational minutes watching Lizzy work painstakingly on her clay sculptures, but Showing Up also grants the same generosity to Jo and the film’s unnamed characters. As with all of Reichardt’s movies, there’s deep empathy for everyone here, as evidenced by the lingering interludes interspersed throughout the film in which we watch the art school’s anonymous students hone their craft, whether by painting, sketching, or participating in eccentric classes like “Thinking and Moving.” Those viewers who are open to Reichardt’s contemplative style might just find that Showing Up’s loving focus on the unsensational work of art-making reflects warmly onto the film itself.