Media and Music: The Intergenerational Nostalgia of Lady Bird

No other film captures the mother-daughter dynamic quite like Greta Gerwig’s 2017 coming-of-age comedy-drama “Lady Bird.” Like its characters, the film has a big heart, and its symbolic use of music drags your heart along with it.

In Film and Music, our writers take a deep dive into how movies use scores and songs to engage viewers, give new meaning and tone to some of our favorite scenes, and establish themes. It almost goes without saying, but there are spoilers abound.

Written by Laiken Neumann

Photos courtesy of A24

When looking back at past films that reveal the inner workings of a mother-daughter relationship, none hit quite as strong a chord as Greta Gerwig’s “Lady Bird.” Her 2017 solo directorial debut scored five Academy Award nominations and two wins at the Golden Globes: Best Motion Picture and Best Actress for Saoirse Ronan, who portrayed Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson.

The movie’s astonishing critical and popular success comes at no shock. The coming-of-age film seamlessly blends two key aspects of adolescent life: the relationship with your parents and with yourself. Lady Bird and her mother, Marion (Laurie Metcalf) quarrel over college and financial issues, as the tension builds between their rivalry. Simultaneously, she encounters the comedic confusion of self-discovery during her final year at an all-girls Catholic high school in Sacramento, “the midwest of California.”

Gerwig includes numerous components to effectively build the film’s characters, relationships, and overarching world, but one under-appreciated element of that world is its soundtrack. Although its endearing score, composed by Jon Brion, is impactful in its own right, the popular music that Gerwig specifically selected for the film truly reflects the film’s emotional core. These songs not only set the scenes of the film, but also expand Lady Bird’s growth, in both herself and her relationship with her mother.

The movie takes place from 2002 to 2003, and many of the songs of the Y2K decade inflict a certain nostalgia. Gerwig, who was in her 20s in the mid-2000s, grew up listening to the songs songs that she eventually embedded into the script. Among these anthems are Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me A River” and Alanis Morissette’s “Hand In My Pocket.” Gerwig even wrote personal letters to each of these artists that included meaningful anecdotes and politely asked for permission to include the songs in the film.

Dave Matthews’ “Crash Into Me” bridges together Lady Bird and her best friend Julie as they mourn Lady Bird’s heartbreak, and again after she is reawakened to what is important to her. Most plainly, the song exemplifies her acceptance of herself (and that it is, in fact, okay to like this song, despite its cheesiness). As she gets closer to becoming who she wants to be, she sets her priorities, one of these being her only real friend over a laughably pretentious boyfriend (even if it is Twitter’s white boy of the 2017-2018 awards season, Timothee Chalamet).

Not only does the music of “Lady Bird” showcase the reality of adolescence in the early 2000s and its inevitable aches and pains, but it also opens another avenue to emphasize the ebbs and flows between Marion and Lady Bird. The dichotomy of hits from the noughties to classics from the sixties reflect the adversity between Lady Bird and her mother, perceived through their respective generations.

As Gerwig claims in her letter to Justin Timberlake, “Cry Me A River” is “sultry and sullen and infectious - what ‘Gimme Shelter’ must have felt like to kids of the late 60s.” The generational gap, showcased in songs, emphasizes a missed connection between Lady Bird and her mother, despite the love they have for each other.

Perhaps the most meaningful — and most literal — song of the bunch is John Hartford’s 1968 “Eve of Parting.” Early on in the film, Marion drives through Sacramento to this tune, and by the end, it’s clear to see how this song comes to exemplify her and Lady Bird’s mutual appreciation for the city (even if Lady Bird doesn’t quite realize her feelings for it at first).

Once Marion finds out Lady Bird has applied to a school in New York, silent tension embeds itself into their relationship, creating a period of limbo between Lady Bird’s high school graduation and when she starts college in New York City. As Lady Bird packs up her childhood room and her parents drive her to the airport, the song “Eve of Parting” fills the silence between them. It delivers like a soft poem but includes a clear declaration of the bittersweet mutual feelings between Lady Bird and her mother. Hartford coos, “sunrise pregnant with your leaving/creeping in like certain death.” The song highlights the inevitability of Lady Bird’s parting, and the frustration that they haven’t been able to reach some reconciliation before now.

If this movie is a love story, “Eve of Parting” is the love song. This moment reinvents the typical, romantic-comedy “I’m running through the airport moments before your flight to see you! Please take me back!” trope, as Marion circles the airport and finally stumbles in, tears streaming down her face, in hopes of saying goodbye after a summer of silence. It feels fresh, because Gerwig has mapped a cinematic cliche onto a genuine mother-daughter relationship. The gentle strums of “Eve of Parting” that preface this moment set up the emotional context for the characters, giving an insight to their tender feelings towards each other.

Now in New York City, Lady Bird finds a stockpile of crumpled-up letters in her suitcase that her mother wrote to her in attempts to let her know how much she appreciates her, salvaged by her father. Accompanied by confusion, partial revelation, and Love’s “Always See Your Face,” she gets wasted at a party, discusses her “really bad music” taste with some guy she just met (whose name is David, not Bruce), and ends the night in a hospital. The rise and fall of the song’s chord progression mirrors her staggering quest for understanding; the 1968 anthem follows her all night. Finally, in a disheveled state the next morning, she waltzes into a church and makes the realization she’s been searching for.

In an act of gratitude, she simply repeats “thank you” to her mother in a voicemail from her “tracking device.” She makes her final revelation of appreciation for her name, her family, and her hometown. The mix of music from the decades in which her and her mother have each come of age has trailed her along the way. The two are just as strong-willed as they have been from the start. However, they have, for a moment, let their guards down to remind each other how much they care for each other.

The strategic consideration of details in the creation of the soundtrack to “Lady Bird” is what makes the film feel so genuine. The blending of songs into the storyline enhances the characters and their relationships, ultimately revealing that its director, Greta Gerwig, gave the film plenty of love and attention. To quote Sister Sarah Joan of Lady Bird’s Catholic school, “don’t you think maybe they’re the same thing, love and attention?”