College presents plenty of people with their first chance for self-reinvention, but the main characters in “Damsels in Distress,” the slightly surreal, joyous comedy from writer-director Whit Stillman, decide to remold the entire campus.
“Damsels’’ marks Stillman’s first movie since “The Last Days of Disco’’ in 1998, an absence that’s been one of the more lamented disappearing acts in indie-film history. This delicately funny and romantic film feels like an auspicious return.
Three girls — de facto leader Violet (Greta Gerwig), imposingly confident Rose (Megalyn Echikunwoke) and endearingly literal-minded Heather (Carrie MacLemore) — have taken it upon themselves to reform the boorish male-dominated atmosphere at Seven Oaks, the fictional East Coast college they attend.
The tight-knit group operates on the premise that showers, perfume, a little self-discipline and a few properly executed dance moves are the way to turn the campus louts into reasonably presentable individuals.
Violet takes their mission a step further by selecting “sad sack” Frank (Ryan Metcalf) as a boyfriend in hopes of polishing a diamond in the rough.
Into the girls’ orbit comes transfer student Lily (Analeigh Tipton), whose half-in, half-out approach to the group’s goals causes friction, particularly when Charlie (Adam Brody) arrives on the scene.
“Damsels” contains much that’s familiar to fans of previous Stillman films such as 1990’s “Metropolitan”: looping jokes that build on one another, allusions to art and literature, characters who are proudly out of step with the times.
It also brings in the unexpected, like Violet’s ambition to start an “international dance craze,” the sambola. Stillman’s knack for detail offers other flourishes, such as a college newspaper called the Daily Complainer and a strict doughnut budget at the campus suicide-prevention center.
This builds a world that looks and sounds like our own, but tilted several degrees to one side, as when despondent students jump off a building — from the second floor.
Seven Oaks is a daffily innocent place where, when a dorm resident pokes her head out to complain, it isn’t over stereo-blaring or pot-smoking. It’s because Violet and Rose are tap-dancing in the hall — and not only that, the girl adds with particular indignation, they’re both lousy at it.
Even a subplot concerning the sexual demands of Lily’s grad-student lover (Hugo Becker) is handled in decorous fashion.
The four main actresses, dreamily photographed by Doug Emmett, do well by their smartly written roles.
Echikunwoke wields a British accent that could make the owners of Downton Abbey quail. MacLemore’s Heather restates the obvious with the deep concentration of someone trying to recall a stanza of “Paradise Lost.”
Tipton manages to play both cool and sensitive, but she doesn’t yet have the skill to put across all of Lily’s changes in attitude. Fortunately, the script does much of that work for her.
It’s Gerwig who shines brightest, showing how Violet’s striving and deceptions come not from conceit or meddling, but from her relentless intelligence.
Told she’s being judgmental, Violet weighs the idea out loud for a couple of minutes, at last concluding that being less judgmental must go on her “to do” list, along with civilizing the frat boys.
There are a few kinks.
The episodic structure means some scenes feel disconnected, and Violet’s own bout of depression (“I prefer the term ‘tailspin,’” she tells people) goes on a little longer than desirable.
But the scene where Violet finally pulls herself together — with the encouragement of a diner waitress and some transit workers — makes it easy to forgive her and the merrily optimistic “Damsels in Distress.’’