Film Review: First Cow

The opening shot of Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow is perhaps my favorite of 2020. A massive barge takes 75 seconds to make its way across the screen. That pace is familiar to any fan of Reichardt’s previous work, but it acts as a moment of calibration to newcomers. A fast-moving action blockbuster, this is not. Instead, First Cow is a slow, plaintive, even elegiac film. It is, however, a film that earns its pace. Reichardt’s film is far from a plodding mess; it is assured in its construction and near-perfect in its execution.

The film is essentially the weirdest heist movie ever; two men named Cookie (John Magaro) and King-Lu (Orion Lee) steal a cow’s milk to make cakes. The pair then sell them, Cookie baking them and King-Lu hawking them to whoever passes by. This includes the cow’s owner; a rich Englishman played by Toby Jones.

Like many of Reichardt’s films, First Cow is set in Oregon. However, it’s also Reichardt’s second period piece and set in 1820. The film’s nature as a period piece is essential for the plot to work, but little else. Reichardt still brings her trademark subtlety and insight to the film. It’s easy to see shades of her 2008 film Wendy and Lucy in the relationship between Cookie and King-Lu as well as the titular cow.

Reichardt, who co-wrote the script with novelist Jonathan Raymond, fills the space left by the sparse plot with character and environmental detail. In a world where trappers frequently demand meat, Cookie is a cook who helps a small salamander escape from his clutches. King-Lu is a Chinese man in a foreign land, years before the California Gold Rush and the Intercontinental Railroad would bring many of his countrymen stateside and even further before the United States government would attempt to keep them out.

That sense of history pervades the film. The film makes it clear from the beginning this tale on the edge of Manifest Destiny won’t end well for either of our protagonists. Cookie and King-Lu are men out of time. Their scheme is nearly perfect for the time in which they live. Their personalities are not.

First Cow is in conversation with film history, too. It is most easily reminiscent of Robert Altman’s 1971 film McCabe and Mrs. Miller, similarly about a liar and grifter trying to make his way in the rustic Pacific Northwest. There are also shades of Reichardt’s own 2010 film Meek’s Cutoff, about a group of settlers led by an unscrupulous guide in Oregon High Desert. That film also portrays the majesty as its own major character in a way, still holding sway over the film’s human characters as they all fall apart.

The cinematography by Christopher Blauvelt and music by country artist William Tyler help contribute to the film’s scale. Blauvelt uses the film’s 4:3 aspect ratio to great effect; he prefers to convey nature’s fading power over man in the mundanity of the surroundings. Tyler’s almost playful score sets a particular mood for this film, this moment, that is at odds with everything swirling around it. But so are Cookie and King-Lu.

First Cow is a perfect introduction to an American master. Reichardt is in her element as a director and writer, but she has rarely been better. It’s one of the best of 2020 and one of the decade’s first genuinely great films.

Final score: 9.5/10

Slate’s Dan Kois recreated the film’s oily cakes. Apparently, they are delicious.