Eighth Grade
It's been a while since I did a blog-exclusive review but this little gem of a film can far too easily escape the attention of those looking for a worthwhile time at the pictures.
It seems to have become something of a tradition since I started reviewing films for there to be at least one truly excellent coming-of-age film released per year. From the Way, Way Back to Ladybird, what may well be my single favourite genre of them all has really come to the table this century with funny, poignant and humane films about that most peculiar and often painful period in anyone's life: adolescence. Eighth Grade not only stands tall in that tradition but for those of us who fell or fall anywhere on the spectrums of introversion, social-awkwardness or anxiety (I tick all three boxes; yay me!), it will pack a particularly powerful and far, far too truthful emotional punch.
And I'm really not underplaying the power of the film to reach out and grab your inner socially-anxious teenager and wring him (or her) for all its worth. Eighth Grade is at times very, very funny and I have little doubt that it will be appearing on my best of 2019 year-end list, but I did spend much of the film not just cringing but viscerally experiencing the emotions of the protagonist in a way that I haven't in a film in a long time. The film earns every one of its nine stars in part specifically because it works on such a visceral level but if the reaction of most of my fellow Joburg critics to the film makes clear, it's not something that everyone will want from a night out at the pictures.
Interestingly, it was actually the ones who identified with the film least by being self-proclaimed extroverts and, generally speaking, not really suffering from anything like social anxiety that took most against it. They hated the punishingly high levels of social awkwardness in the film and didn't find very much with which to relate. Despite the fact (or precisely because of the fact, probably) that the film hit me on such a primal level, making it quite painful to watch at times, I had absolutely none of their reservations. Its particular power is demonstrably not for everyone.
It's also not something for anyone looking for a film heavy in plot. Plenty does happen in the film, of course: you can't have a coming-of-age story without events that act as a catalyst for that transition from childhood to young adulthood, but it's mostly just a look at a year in the life of a socially awkward and introverted, if ultimately fairly ordinary, teenage girl named Kayla Day (played to perfection by Elsie Fisher), as she makes her way through her final year of middle school.
We're standing right beside her as she goes through much of the usual crap that teenagers go through, from parental conflict to trying to fit in with the popular crowd to having a crush on a cute teenage boy who is, very clearly, a total dingus. There's even some distinctly 21st century lunacy thrown in for good measure as she narrates her story to us through a series of video blogs (or vlogs, as the kids may or may not still be calling them) where she offers other teenagers tips on how to get through their teenage years - ironic, considering that she barely has her own head above water.
So far so ordinary but that's kind of the point. Even if our individual experiences vary greatly on a micro level, there is a universality to the teenage experience that transcends wildly divergent individual experiences. First time writer/ director, Bo Burnham (himself a bit of a YouTube star, apparently) understands that and keeps the broad scope of Kayla's final year of middle school very familiar but focuses on the particular details of this individual teenager to provide a fresh perspective on something that isn't just very familiar from our own lives but from hundreds of teenage films too.
Perhaps the quintessential example of this occurs during the film's depiction of that most cliche teen-movie staple: a birthday party for the most popular girl in school. Even the premise of Kayla, a largely likeable but unpopular kid (it's not for nothing that she's voted "most quiet" in her class) being invited to the main Mean Girl's party by the girl's oblivious mother is something we've seen time and time again.
What is most definitely not ordinary, however, is the way this sequence plays out. As a socially anxious introvert myself, I can safely say that I don't think I've ever seen - or felt - a better on-screen representation of being such a person at this kind of gathering. Straight from the off, this feels nothing less than entirely recognizable and truthful. In Kayla's trepidatious walk from her father's car to the front door, we can all but see the uncertainty that has been wracking her anxious brain ever since first receiving the invite days earlier - an anxiousness that hits her (and us) like a tidal wave the minute she walks through that door.
Taking off immediately to the socially-awkward introvert's most sacred place at any party, the bathroom, Kayla uses the excuse to change into her swimming costume to try and collect herself and hyperventilate just a little bit. Not that this helps a whole lot. The camera switches to her point of view, sweeping across a group of kids, all apparently getting along, all having the time of their lives and all oddly good-looking. Unlike so many films of its ilk, the party feels like an actual fourteen-year-old's birthday party and the kids do look like kids but the scene before Kayla is shot in such a way to make them look just that little bit more devastatingly.. mature.
Nothing about the rest of the party rings any less true. She meets a similarly awkward boy who starts blithely talking to her but she is so lost in her own insecurity that she barely registers him. She corners herself off from the rest of the kids and whispers pleadingly on her cell phone for her father to come and fetch her. She makes a bit of a fool in front of the dopey boy she likes and blows it way out of proportion.
This is elemental, familiar stuff, portrayed, once again, with unwavering honesty and plenty of awkward but properly funny humour. The only part of all this that I had trouble relating to was that Kayla finds the courage to go and sing karaoke at the end of the party but as opposed to the realism of the way the rest of the party is portrayed, this sequence takes on a dreamlike feel that makes you question if it really happened (it probably did).
Burnham, in both his script and direction, delivers this level of smarts and authenticity throughout the film's compact ninety-minute runtime. Despite being unfairly overlooked at the Academy Awards (only one of many controversies about this year's Oscars, to be fair), he has won a couple of very well-deserved writing awards from the likes of the Writer's Guild of America and the Independent Spirit Awards. It's an excellent script by any measure but it's just absurdly accomplished for someone's first screenplay.
Burnham, however, has constantly shifted the focus to his young star, calling her the real secret to the film's success. Despite the fact that, of course, this is his film and most of the credit should be given to him, it's hard to argue. Despite being only slightly older now than the character she played in the film (no thirty-year-olds pretending to be teenagers here), she has already amassed quite an impressively long filmography.
She has been acting professionally since she was six and those years of experience has paid off in spades. Kayla is a complicated character who, despite being very sympathetic and likable is still a teenage girl and can be sullen, surly and just plain rude, and Fisher never skips a beat in bringing this beautifully written character to (real) life.
The rest of the cast of largely unknown actors are pretty terrific all around but however much this is Elsie/ Kayla's film, one can't or at least shouldn't overlook the brilliant work done with her father, Mark, by both Burnham's script and the perfectly sympathetic performance by Josh Hamilton. Mark is almost as well drawn as Kayla is as a single father struggling desperately to do right by a daughter who is both unfairly hard on him and refuses to let him into even some of the issues that are plaguing her. Again, all of this is portrayed with an undeniable ring of truth and complexity - he fails as a parent as often as he succeeds - and Hamilton's easygoing but exasperated performance captures that perfectly.
None of this exceptional work changes the fact that Eighth Grade won't work for everybody any more than the fact that it was almost entirely overlooked this award's season change that it's as good or better than most of the films nominated. If you are able to go with it, though, you should hopefully join me in finding it to be an especially rich and rewarding slice of cinematic excellence that is brilliant enough in and of itself but also introduces us to at least two incredibly exciting new talents that will hopefully go onto - well, probably not better but at least equally great things.
And I'm really not underplaying the power of the film to reach out and grab your inner socially-anxious teenager and wring him (or her) for all its worth. Eighth Grade is at times very, very funny and I have little doubt that it will be appearing on my best of 2019 year-end list, but I did spend much of the film not just cringing but viscerally experiencing the emotions of the protagonist in a way that I haven't in a film in a long time. The film earns every one of its nine stars in part specifically because it works on such a visceral level but if the reaction of most of my fellow Joburg critics to the film makes clear, it's not something that everyone will want from a night out at the pictures.
Interestingly, it was actually the ones who identified with the film least by being self-proclaimed extroverts and, generally speaking, not really suffering from anything like social anxiety that took most against it. They hated the punishingly high levels of social awkwardness in the film and didn't find very much with which to relate. Despite the fact (or precisely because of the fact, probably) that the film hit me on such a primal level, making it quite painful to watch at times, I had absolutely none of their reservations. Its particular power is demonstrably not for everyone.
It's also not something for anyone looking for a film heavy in plot. Plenty does happen in the film, of course: you can't have a coming-of-age story without events that act as a catalyst for that transition from childhood to young adulthood, but it's mostly just a look at a year in the life of a socially awkward and introverted, if ultimately fairly ordinary, teenage girl named Kayla Day (played to perfection by Elsie Fisher), as she makes her way through her final year of middle school.
We're standing right beside her as she goes through much of the usual crap that teenagers go through, from parental conflict to trying to fit in with the popular crowd to having a crush on a cute teenage boy who is, very clearly, a total dingus. There's even some distinctly 21st century lunacy thrown in for good measure as she narrates her story to us through a series of video blogs (or vlogs, as the kids may or may not still be calling them) where she offers other teenagers tips on how to get through their teenage years - ironic, considering that she barely has her own head above water.
So far so ordinary but that's kind of the point. Even if our individual experiences vary greatly on a micro level, there is a universality to the teenage experience that transcends wildly divergent individual experiences. First time writer/ director, Bo Burnham (himself a bit of a YouTube star, apparently) understands that and keeps the broad scope of Kayla's final year of middle school very familiar but focuses on the particular details of this individual teenager to provide a fresh perspective on something that isn't just very familiar from our own lives but from hundreds of teenage films too.
Perhaps the quintessential example of this occurs during the film's depiction of that most cliche teen-movie staple: a birthday party for the most popular girl in school. Even the premise of Kayla, a largely likeable but unpopular kid (it's not for nothing that she's voted "most quiet" in her class) being invited to the main Mean Girl's party by the girl's oblivious mother is something we've seen time and time again.
What is most definitely not ordinary, however, is the way this sequence plays out. As a socially anxious introvert myself, I can safely say that I don't think I've ever seen - or felt - a better on-screen representation of being such a person at this kind of gathering. Straight from the off, this feels nothing less than entirely recognizable and truthful. In Kayla's trepidatious walk from her father's car to the front door, we can all but see the uncertainty that has been wracking her anxious brain ever since first receiving the invite days earlier - an anxiousness that hits her (and us) like a tidal wave the minute she walks through that door.
Taking off immediately to the socially-awkward introvert's most sacred place at any party, the bathroom, Kayla uses the excuse to change into her swimming costume to try and collect herself and hyperventilate just a little bit. Not that this helps a whole lot. The camera switches to her point of view, sweeping across a group of kids, all apparently getting along, all having the time of their lives and all oddly good-looking. Unlike so many films of its ilk, the party feels like an actual fourteen-year-old's birthday party and the kids do look like kids but the scene before Kayla is shot in such a way to make them look just that little bit more devastatingly.. mature.
Nothing about the rest of the party rings any less true. She meets a similarly awkward boy who starts blithely talking to her but she is so lost in her own insecurity that she barely registers him. She corners herself off from the rest of the kids and whispers pleadingly on her cell phone for her father to come and fetch her. She makes a bit of a fool in front of the dopey boy she likes and blows it way out of proportion.
This is elemental, familiar stuff, portrayed, once again, with unwavering honesty and plenty of awkward but properly funny humour. The only part of all this that I had trouble relating to was that Kayla finds the courage to go and sing karaoke at the end of the party but as opposed to the realism of the way the rest of the party is portrayed, this sequence takes on a dreamlike feel that makes you question if it really happened (it probably did).
Burnham, in both his script and direction, delivers this level of smarts and authenticity throughout the film's compact ninety-minute runtime. Despite being unfairly overlooked at the Academy Awards (only one of many controversies about this year's Oscars, to be fair), he has won a couple of very well-deserved writing awards from the likes of the Writer's Guild of America and the Independent Spirit Awards. It's an excellent script by any measure but it's just absurdly accomplished for someone's first screenplay.
Burnham, however, has constantly shifted the focus to his young star, calling her the real secret to the film's success. Despite the fact that, of course, this is his film and most of the credit should be given to him, it's hard to argue. Despite being only slightly older now than the character she played in the film (no thirty-year-olds pretending to be teenagers here), she has already amassed quite an impressively long filmography.
She has been acting professionally since she was six and those years of experience has paid off in spades. Kayla is a complicated character who, despite being very sympathetic and likable is still a teenage girl and can be sullen, surly and just plain rude, and Fisher never skips a beat in bringing this beautifully written character to (real) life.
The rest of the cast of largely unknown actors are pretty terrific all around but however much this is Elsie/ Kayla's film, one can't or at least shouldn't overlook the brilliant work done with her father, Mark, by both Burnham's script and the perfectly sympathetic performance by Josh Hamilton. Mark is almost as well drawn as Kayla is as a single father struggling desperately to do right by a daughter who is both unfairly hard on him and refuses to let him into even some of the issues that are plaguing her. Again, all of this is portrayed with an undeniable ring of truth and complexity - he fails as a parent as often as he succeeds - and Hamilton's easygoing but exasperated performance captures that perfectly.
None of this exceptional work changes the fact that Eighth Grade won't work for everybody any more than the fact that it was almost entirely overlooked this award's season change that it's as good or better than most of the films nominated. If you are able to go with it, though, you should hopefully join me in finding it to be an especially rich and rewarding slice of cinematic excellence that is brilliant enough in and of itself but also introduces us to at least two incredibly exciting new talents that will hopefully go onto - well, probably not better but at least equally great things.
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