There’s a special kick in discovering a modest indie
previously unknown to me. Ingrid Goes West sounds, at the outset, like a
folksy comedy tracing a young woman’s arrival in a small western town—an update
on Cat Ballou, maybe. Hardly! This modest 2017 release starring Aubrey
Plaza (whom I realize now was the engaging star of My Old Ass) mashes
together laughs and chills in a wonderfully contemporary way. Though in 2017
Plaza herself was hardly a newcomer to showbiz, the writing/directing team of
Matt Spicer and David Branson Smith were total newbies, who deservedly took
home the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at Sundance, as well as an Independent
Spirit nod for Best First Feature. As the instructor, through UCLA Extension,
of many aspiring filmmakers, I love seeing what can be done with a small but
talented cast and a timely premise.
Ingrid Goes West is a darkly comic satire on the way
social media feeds can ruin young lives. Ingrid, who starts out in Pittsburgh,
is obsessed with the would-be celebrities who flaunt their cool lifestyles via
Instagram. Following her mother’s death and an embarrassing exploit that shows
her the wisdom of leaving town quickly, she takes her entire inheritance (some
$60,000, as I recall) in cash and heads for the west coast. There she scores a
rental near Venice Beach and focuses all her energy on befriending hot
influencer Taylor Sloane (Elizabeth Olsen), who is delighted to accept her as a
new (and clearly well-heeled) bestie. On long girls-day-out jaunts to Joshua
Tree, they trade confidences. But Ingrid never reveals how badly she wants to
be part of Taylor’s casually hip—and very well publicized—world.
Yet Ingrid is making enemies as well as friends. She can
easily get around her sweet-natured neighbor (the engaging O’Shea Jackson Jr.),
a would-be screenwriter who soon loves her almost as much as he does Batman. But
Taylor’s husband, who left the corporate world at Taylor’s urging to become a
would-be artist, is immune to the charms of social media, and is increasingly
uneasy about Ingrid’s near-constant presence. Then there’s Taylor’s hunky but
slightly menacing brother, newly arrived from a sweet stay in Paris, who for
understandable reasons knows a grifter when he sees one.
As the film gets going and the bad behavior escalates, you can
hardly call it comedic. I was, frankly, disappointed when Ingrid, finally
realizing the error of her ways, seems to publicly acknowledge that she’s a
total fraud. But the sappy ending that appeared to be on tap at this point
quickly converts—via a great shifting of gears—into a cheeky and uproarious
coda that I would not want to spoil.
Plaza (who also stepped in as one of the film’s producers)
has the gift of being able to veer from sweet to scary, and from pathetic to
obnoxious, at the drop of a hat. I’ll look forward to seeing her onscreen
again, especially if she continues to back edgy material that suits her
particular gifts. There’s a lot of smart writing too, and I love the way
in-the-moment texting to one’s followers is introduced into this story from its
opening scenes onward.
As a screenwriting instructor who teaches advanced rewrite
classes through UCLA Extension, I am open to stories of all kinds, including
those that require far-flung locations and casts of thousands. But I
particularly appreciate the small, clever scripts that can make do with a few good
actors and limited locations. Ingrid Goes West, with its tiny cast and
present-day SoCal vibe, is a wonderful way to jump into the bigtime.
