Booksmart (2019) - Movie Review

Between Blockers and Eighth Grade, I’m quite glad that we’re getting a bit more variety when it comes to high school-set coming of age stories on the big screen. Not only is it making the teenaged multiplex less of a sausage fest, it’s also highlighting that there’s a whole heap of narrative opportunities that we’ve been missing out on as a collective audience. What’s more, we’re once again dealing with a directorial debut in the form of Olivia Wilde. Knowing what happened last time we checked in on her cinematic efforts, not being left with any good things to say about her, I am both surprised and quite relieved that this film works out as well as it does.

Taking a typical cue from the sub-genre, the story focuses on teenagers Molly and Amy as they approach high school graduation. However, it takes a certain detour compared to the norms set up by American Pie and Superbad. We’re not looking at the ne’er-do-wells or the hard-partying misfits with this one; we’re looking at the overachievers, the academics, the people who take school dead seriously. This is the kind of character set that ends up being the villains, or at best the supporting cast, in stories like this; the ones who give the mains a chance to feel good about not being so ‘nerdy’.

From there, the usual ‘let’s get drunk and party’ premise takes on a different tone. After Molly and Amy discover that their classmates, who are far more lackadaisical with their studies, have also made it into Ivy League colleges just as they have, they end up having an existential crisis. They specifically skipped out on the drunken antics that comprise stereotypical high schoolers after dark, and after that wake-up call, they realise just how much they’ve missed out on. So, over the course of a single night, the night before their graduation, they want to compress all the chaos they didn’t get to experience over four years of school.

That sense of compressing the utter surreality of party life definitely comes across, as the set pieces here range from the cringingly hilarious to the positively insane. Can’t say I was expecting a drug trip sequence where the mains turn into literal Barbie dolls, but operating under Rule Of Weird, this film and this script in particular gain some major laughs. Laughs that are filtered through the usual nostalgic cringe, which flood every moment that takes place within the school and beyond, but laughs all the same.

But honestly, none of this is what makes me as jazzed to be writing about this film as I am. No, that comes down to the soundtrack, marking the first time this year that a soundtrack has gotten me outright hyped to put my thoughts down on paper. The licensed music picks are quite fantastic, from Parliament to Jurassic 5 to fucking Death Grips (seriously, hearing I See Footage on big-ass cinema speakers was more thrilling than I ever would have expected), but it’s the original score that garners the most attention. Marking his first foray into complete U.S. film soundtrack work, we have Dan The Automator, producer behind the Gorillaz’ debut album, Deltron 3030, Dr. Octagonecologyst, and a whole slew of other hip-hop classics.

The man knows how to set the mood for hip-hop at its most high concept, and he brings that same sensibility to this feature. From the higher moments of weirdness, like just about anytime Billie Lourd’s Gigi is on-screen as the patron saint of youthful anarchy, to the more serene moments, like an extended underwater sequence in the party pool, he manages to create a suitable tone without it overshadowing what the audience is seeing. This is something even the licensed picks occasionally get wrong, although that could just be my need to head-bob whenever What’s Golden is playing.

So, yeah, I may be astoundingly happy with the sonic choices made here, but I don’t want to override everything else the film has going for it. The performances are dead-solid across the board, the writing gives its own spin on the Superbad formula while making its own footprint visible, and as a depiction of self-destructive social anxiety and fears of what people could have missed out on in earlier life, it’s quite palpable and aided immensely by how bluntly honest the observations are. Turns out that getting a female director and an all-female writing staff to put together a coming of age story would be a real breath of fresh air; maybe now, we can get some more of these, eh?