2018 | 98 minutes | Rated R
Eking out a meager existence in the deep outer-borough of New York most of us see only from the windows of passing trains or in the title sequences of films, Kyra spends her days taking care of her very old mother, helping her into the tub, laboriously walking with her to the bank to cash her pension checks, fetching her water, whiskey, and oxygen. Kyra's life proceeds from the grimness of being your "failing" mother's only caretaker to dressing up in her clothes and impersonating her agonized gait because it's the only way to cash her pension checks after she dies. Every day she looks for work, but there are no jobs—or they've just been filled. Where Is Kyra? is an unorthodox comeback vehicle for Michelle Pfeiffer—the film is truly a total bummer, the rare example of cinema that is both beautifully made and 100 percent joyless. But it remains noteworthy, and maybe even important to see as an unflinching statement about the exponential indignities of being anything other than rich in America.
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