I kept guessing if this was an autobiography of the writer-director, who I previously recognized as the fat mad man in Wolf of Wall Street. He could be anyone, and this movie could happened anywhere in America in the mid 90s. Why is studying and going to harvard corny? Why is Stevie always alright and free of head injuries after fatal accidents? Why is the closet where everyone keeps their secret wounds so broken but simply put? Why is being a mom breastfeeding two children in her 18 birthday so real of a character in the movie? Why do I keep thinking about Bryan.
The film was shot in the aspect ratio and quality that very much misfits in this era. I was taken back to a time when I was probably not born, in another city that I would not have heard of till middle school, but I felt so connected to Stevie, who would poke his wounds after he gets beaten up by his brother Ian, and gives a gift after he sneaks into Ian’s room and listens to his CDs. He was not appreciated, and the wind of social/racial inequality haven’t became articulated reality for a boy yet. “What’s black people?” Ain’t that genius?
It’s such a cliche to make a film about a boy who doesn’t fit in and feel appreciate at home and thus tries so much to cover for his real self. It’s such a cliche to talk about skate like it’s the freest and most healing thing in the world. Doesn’t this remind you of Minding the Gap? Of course this is more subtle in some ways and more deliberate in others. The domestic abuse, the absence of good fathers and helplessness of a gentle mothers, the “skate to live” philosophy, the senselessly hilarious jokes all move me so much I couldn’t even begin to analyze it while I watch it.
Many of the shots were brilliant and original, like the long still take on the road when the group skate among the cars, the chasing police, the cutting between moments in the party, the last second before the car accident, etc etc.
I have seen another film about a coming of age girl finding a community and a calling through skating too. That film also explored racial dynamic and sexuality, youthful rebellion and helpnessless, probably unintentionally. But compared to this one that was just a pretentious kitsch.
This film is, nothing short of a poem. The boy so devoted in his anger and joy, so genuine with his voice seemed to be too real to be fictional. I know this is a beautifully constructed reality of all the best (with most modified harm of drugs and domestic violence and most un-dramatic human relationships) that could happen in this context. Los Angeles in the summer, no school all play very much far from the adults’ problems.
“You look serious, kid.” “I’m alright. I just can’t deal with this shit sometimes.”
The boys emotions and concerns are demonstrated by them spending the night out sleeping on the street or on the couch, and their lives looks so much cooler than it would have been without all the fantastic music choice.
I love it, you know?
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