Mistress America (2015)

Mistress America is special because it captures that intoxicating moment when someone blows into your life like a human firework—brilliant, chaotic, and impossible not to follow—then asks what that kind of charisma costs. Noah Baumbach’s script crackles with wit and screwball momentum, and Greta Gerwig is a marvel as Brooke, turning big dreams and bigger talk into something funny, a little sad, and oddly inspiring all at once. The movie has a bright, breathless New York vibe, full of sharp observations and affectionate cringe, where every conversation feels like it’s sprinting to keep up with the characters’ self-mythology. If you don’t enjoy talky comedies or characters who can be messy and self-involved, it may not be your wavelength—but if you do, this is a charming, smart, genuinely hilarious ride that lingers after the last line.

Mistress America is trying to capture that specific New York rush where a charismatic mess of a person feels like a life raft, and it nails the giddy, talky energy of idolizing someone you barely know. The catch is the movie’s structure can feel lopsided: it builds momentum, then detours into an extended screwball stretch that some viewers will find hilarious and others will feel stalls the whole thing. Greta Gerwig’s performance is intentionally high-voltage and a bit abrasive, which is the point, but if you don’t enjoy characters who talk fast, make grand plans, and leave chaos behind, you’ll likely find it more exhausting than funny. If you’re into Baumbach’s observational, dialogue-driven comedies and don’t need a neat payoff, there’s plenty of sharp writing and a surprisingly sincere undercurrent about ambition and self-mythmaking.