Jacob’s review published on Letterboxd:
Masterful in the most understated of ways. Kelly Reichardt arranges grainy, minimalist compositions against the sounds of trains and passing cars, and the resulting symphony is beautiful. There are a lot of movies about lost people trying to find their way, but never have I seen one that so profoundly understands the need for stability. Wendy yearns for comfort, and Lucy provides just that. She's not just a cute animal or even a source of companionship -- Lucy is the hope that life will get better and the belief that there's always another way to go on. But when that hope is lost, what else is there?
The final sequence of Wendy and Lucy is almost painfully emotional, yet also entirely deserved. It feels right, and it is. Over the course of these 80 minutes, Michelle Williams never plays a single moment false, and every choice she makes becomes the only choice. Her character is such an intricate balance of active and passive, as she fights for what she wants but is also weighed down by forces she cannot control. In her final decision, she takes control of her life, and it's as powerful as it is heartbreaking.