2014’s Boyhood, written
and directed by Richard Linklater.
Starring Ellar Coltrane, Patricia Arquette, Lorelei
Linklater, Ethan Hawke, Marco Perrella, Elijah Smith, Charlie Sexton, Libby
Villari, and Steven Prince.
What is it about?
Mason Jr. (Ellar Coltrane) is a young boy,
growing up in childhood in Texas through the 2000’s and 2010’s. He puts up with
his older sister, Samantha (Lorelei Linklater), and is raised by his single
mother, Olivia (Patricia Arquette), with occasional visits with his father,
Mason Sr (Ethan Hawke). Mason Jr. gradually transforms from a young boy, into
an adolescent, then a teenager, and finally, a young adult. He and his sister
move around the state as his mother moves in with different men, and he
experiences the joy and pains of maturation as he discovers who he wants to be.
Why is it worth seeing?
Writer/Director Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy explored two soul mates
and the way time changed themselves and their relationship. Its actors’ real
time physical transformations (over 18 years) reinforced how their characters
evolved year by year, while appreciating the moments that celebrated both the ecstatic
and mundane delights of being human. One would forgive Linklater for creating
those monuments to the passage of epochs, and leave his (massive) efforts at
that. Fortunately, Linklater goes another level deep in Boyhood.
Filmed in yearly segments over the course of 13 years, we spend the movie’s running time embedded as a fly on the wall to a boy’s metamorphosis. As armchair documentarians (think a fictionalized version of the 7-Up series), we observe his boyish wonder at the garden of delights that is our world, his youthful naiveté in the face of intrapersonal violence, his exuberance in discovery- all juxtaposed against the pain of growing up and sharing in life’s transgressions. For a movie that literally passes years between scenes, it has uncommon patience for the microscopic milieu that is everyday life. Linklater has always excelled at creating environments that not only beg to be hung out in, but also that celebrate the passage of time- none more so than here.
Few are as talented as Linklater at depicting the art of, well, just hanging out (little wonder he made a film titled, Slacker). One potential fault to be found with some of his more quixotic work is an occasional lack of reality- that is, creating worlds where people fall over themselves to share their small college town inspired philosophies and to just go wherever the wind takes oneself. That hang loose vibe is able to feel more grounded here, as some of the uglier moments of life are witnessed and contrasted. From the jarring reality of leaving one’s comfort zone and social circle due to moving, to sibling rivalry, to the circular patterns of domestic violence- life’s less inspiring moments, so ripe for the opportunity of learning and growth, can be felt and absorbed. But even more stirring, are the unacknowledged passages of time that occur, when one’s history is wiped away. Whether it’s painting over you and your sibling’s height chart, or arguing with a parent about which of your personal mementos to keep, Boyhood’s nostalgia never bogs down since it’s always barreling forwards.
Initially, Linklater goes to great lengths to establish the time period of the respective eras. From the needle drops, the school computers, the political news in the background, the video game consoles, the torture porn cinema sub-genre, and disgraced baseball players, a game of “what year is it?” can be played to figure out the setting. But the film really finds its feet when it becomes (a little) less obvious what year it is, and the character’s lives bear fruit. Indeed, for a two hour and forty five minute run time, the film starts out deliberately- and all of a sudden won’t stop moving at a breakneck pace. We start to share the experience of Arquette and Hawke’s mom and dad characters, where they just want to spend more time with their children, (most of) their lives in front of them- but are helplessly locked in a slow motion vehicle that moves too fast.
Filmed in yearly segments over the course of 13 years, we spend the movie’s running time embedded as a fly on the wall to a boy’s metamorphosis. As armchair documentarians (think a fictionalized version of the 7-Up series), we observe his boyish wonder at the garden of delights that is our world, his youthful naiveté in the face of intrapersonal violence, his exuberance in discovery- all juxtaposed against the pain of growing up and sharing in life’s transgressions. For a movie that literally passes years between scenes, it has uncommon patience for the microscopic milieu that is everyday life. Linklater has always excelled at creating environments that not only beg to be hung out in, but also that celebrate the passage of time- none more so than here.
Few are as talented as Linklater at depicting the art of, well, just hanging out (little wonder he made a film titled, Slacker). One potential fault to be found with some of his more quixotic work is an occasional lack of reality- that is, creating worlds where people fall over themselves to share their small college town inspired philosophies and to just go wherever the wind takes oneself. That hang loose vibe is able to feel more grounded here, as some of the uglier moments of life are witnessed and contrasted. From the jarring reality of leaving one’s comfort zone and social circle due to moving, to sibling rivalry, to the circular patterns of domestic violence- life’s less inspiring moments, so ripe for the opportunity of learning and growth, can be felt and absorbed. But even more stirring, are the unacknowledged passages of time that occur, when one’s history is wiped away. Whether it’s painting over you and your sibling’s height chart, or arguing with a parent about which of your personal mementos to keep, Boyhood’s nostalgia never bogs down since it’s always barreling forwards.
Initially, Linklater goes to great lengths to establish the time period of the respective eras. From the needle drops, the school computers, the political news in the background, the video game consoles, the torture porn cinema sub-genre, and disgraced baseball players, a game of “what year is it?” can be played to figure out the setting. But the film really finds its feet when it becomes (a little) less obvious what year it is, and the character’s lives bear fruit. Indeed, for a two hour and forty five minute run time, the film starts out deliberately- and all of a sudden won’t stop moving at a breakneck pace. We start to share the experience of Arquette and Hawke’s mom and dad characters, where they just want to spend more time with their children, (most of) their lives in front of them- but are helplessly locked in a slow motion vehicle that moves too fast.
Linklater, again so good at dialogue that sounds
of the everyday level of ordinary human beings, couldn’t have asked for more
from Arquette and Hawke. Both of them get richer, deeper, wiser as their kids
age, and further validate the faux documentary-like vibes of the film, being captains
of the genuinely authentic distinctiveness. Coltrane’s performance is a little
more questionable, however, how much of that is professional liability, or
merely the results of portraying the various tics of teenage awkwardness/being
under the influence, will be up for debate after further projects.
A perennial celebration of time and the ways that it shapes us, Linklater utilizes fantastic performances from his actors to propel dialogue into places that start rooted in nostalgia, and blossom into a sublime present. So much more than just a cinematic gimmick, it’s a deeply affecting scrapbook brought to life.
A perennial celebration of time and the ways that it shapes us, Linklater utilizes fantastic performances from his actors to propel dialogue into places that start rooted in nostalgia, and blossom into a sublime present. So much more than just a cinematic gimmick, it’s a deeply affecting scrapbook brought to life.
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