Always fun to see a screenwriter step into the director’s chair for the first time. Doubly so since, in the case of Brian Duffield, it means he can maintain control over his own story, which seems to be a recurring issue in his filmography. Any time he gets brought in as co-writer for just about anything, it doesn’t turn out well: Insurgent, the clustered production of Jane Got A Gun, even Underwater from earlier this year. And given what happened when he stepped out alone with The Babysitter, hell yeah, I want to see him continue on that path. And while his latest certainly carries a similar sense of gory fun that helped make Babysitter so damn cool, there’s also a heavy, heavy sense of melancholy to be found here as well.
This is easily Duffield’s best script, as it has an incredibly distinct fingerprint to it, in spite of this being a high-school-set romantic comedy. Every teenaged character here treats the world and everything in it in a highly glib fashion, either saying just about everything that’s on their mind or being so connected to their friends that they can always tell what’s on theirs. Add to that copious amounts of film references (spoken with a refreshing naturality, rather than trying to explain it for those not in the know), and you have a group of kids who don’t have time to bullshit each other about how they feel and so they admit to it outright. And it makes far too much sense here, as they really don’t have the time to bullshit, as they could blow up at any moment. Literally.
Yeah, it’s kind of like that Spontaneous Combustion episode of South Park, except we don’t even get that much of an explanation as to why this happening. Oh, people in-universe certainly try to figure it out, but far as they (and the audience) are concerned, there is no reason for it. Teenagers at Covington High are exploding like blood balloons, and it could happen to any of them at a moment’s notice. As literal plot, it’s certainly a unique take on notions of living for the moment that populate a lot of school-set narratives, but as metaphor, it kinda hurts how relatable it is.
Whether it’s school shootings, mental health crises, COVID, or the Mayan apocalypse (a recurring joke for my graduating year of 2012), teenagers are surrounded by morbid events nowadays. Their parents may want to help, the pharmaceutical industry may have prescriptions at the ready, and religious shit-lords may blame the kids themselves for their own deaths due to some personal failing (like that has ever helped anyone ever), but none of that removes that anxiety. That fear of the worst happening all over again. That inability to connect with others because it could all be taken away so quickly.
We resort to many things to try and numb the pain (since denial is a panacea only the grown-ups feel comfortable with using), but after a while, when so many people close to you have already left this plane of existence… you start to wonder if those douches with the picket signs are onto something. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe this is just my part in the grander scheme of this thing that always makes sense that we call life. Maybe it’d be best if I just… joined the others.
And people wonder why teenagers are as doom-and-gloom as they are nowadays. Millennials cop a lot of shit for our general social mannerisms, our world view, and our reluctance to buy into what everyone else deems to be important. But one look at the influencing circumstances around all that should show that there’s a reason why that is. And while the story does eventually reach peak nihilist when the characters begin to think that none of this fucking matters and why do we even bother, it knows enough not to end on that. It admits the world makes no sense, that tragedy can strike without rhyme or reason, and that life often feels like a life sentence. But when the world seems so intent on breaking you down, on making you succumb to the void of anti-life… that’s when living happily, whatever that may mean for you, becomes the best revenge.
I could easily chalk all this up to the film appealing to my very emo-teenager sensibilities (which have stuck with me well outside of high school), but that doesn’t measure up to just how emotionally fulfilling this whole production is. The soundtrack is Millennial blues on blast, the acting is top-notch (good to see Charlie Plummer still being amazing after Words On Bathroom Walls, and Katherine Langford needs more work after this), and the tone of the film effortlessly balances incredibly warm and inviting social interactions with a prevailing sense of dread that it could all be over soon. With how much the spectre of death has loomed large over 2020 because of COVID, seeing something this honest about the odds but also this resilient in the face of them is very affecting and feels like what needs to exist right now.
No comments:
Post a Comment