Many were disappointed that the film Boyhood did not receive more awards from the Academy last Sunday night, but I admit I was not one who felt that way. Not that I don't appreciate the film; indeed, Boyhood deserves much of the attention it has received. The well-chronicled making of this movie, which traces the coming-of-age story of a boy in real time, is a study in filmmaking, as the entire project took thirteen years to make. The writer/director, Richard Linklater, one of the best American film directors of the past twenty years, has never shied away from an interesting and unconventional project, and he has created an impressive chronicle of his main character Mason (Ellar Coltrane) as he grows from a child of 5 to a young man of 18.

 

For me, there are two major issues with the film: one is stylistic, and the other has to do with the unexplored traumas Mason has experienced. In the interest of a naturalistic movie with an almost documentary feel, Linklater too often has his characters speaking in dialogue as wooden as a kitchen farm table. (Not the first time he has had this trouble in his films.) At times the dialogue just doesn’t ring true, even as the characters are the mouthpieces for really interesting ideas about growing up, parenting, artistry, relationships and school. But being a mouthpiece for points of view can create a very stilted scene. Moreover, in the interest of incorporating many of the common travails of childhood, Linklater ventures into cliche: the "peer pressure" scene with the older boys or the bullies in the bathroom scene contain predictable elements that we have seen many times. It is almost as if Linklater felt obligated to include such moments, as his film tries to help the mundane transcend into artistic expression.

I could forgive those scenes, especially in light of the fact that there are also many brilliant and deeply engaging ones. My favorite is probably the highly spontaneous and realistic scene in which Mason’s father (Christian Slater) is trying to give a sort of birds and bees talk to his very embarrassed daughter (played to perfection by the director’s real-life daughter Lorelei Linklater) and mystified younger son. And the scene in which mom’s second husband breaks a glass at the dinner table contains plenty of tension and a strong performance from Marco Perella. I have known men like this, seething with their own unresolved issues and internal disappointment, so that his explosion reads truer than many of the other moments in the film.

But more problematic to me as a longtime educator of adolescents is the way in which some of the very challenging moments are so blithely treated. Mason deals with as much or more as any teenager could: he has been partly abandoned by a juvenile father, whose attention he desperately needs and wants; he is left with a neglectful, selfish and insecure mother, who moves from one dysfunctional relationship to another; he lives with not one, but two, alcoholic stepfathers, both of whom are verbally and physically abusive; he endures the fact that both of these stepfathers, along with some earnest step-siblings then disappear without a trace; his mother’s indulgence of him encourages him to make all sorts of poor choices regarding sex, alcohol and drug use. What many viewers have chalked up to “realistic” depictions of childhood made my hair stand on end. Where is this kid’s support system?! The stuff he and his sister leave unprocessed would send many kids over the deep end. The best parental moment, ironically, comes from the tough love advice administered by his photo teacher. It’s unclear whether this advice sinks in fully, but I think we are led to believe that Mason will do all right because he is following his creative muse to college. Also meant to reassure us is the final scene in which Mason takes a hallucinogenic drug and goes on a hike with his roommate and two girls. He exchanges more deep thoughts with one of them, which again indicates his inner churning, but his deep thoughts are pretty run-of-the-film teenage existentialism, not really profound insight that could lead to a brighter, healthier future.

For me a much better coming-of-age story contained in a stronger film may be found in the indie sleeper Love Is Strange, written and directed by Ira Sachs. This movie is ostensibly about two older recently married men (played brilliantly by veteran actors John Lithgow and Albert Molina) who suddenly find themselves apartment-less in Manhattan. There is much to be said about the way this film also celebrates both the mundane and the tragic aspects of family life, but artistically speaking, there is much more here. Ultimately for me, the film is actually more of a coming-of-age film about John Lithgow’s great-nephew Joey, played wonderfully by Charlie Tahan.

Joey’s inner life remains as mysterious and confusing to himself and us as it is to the audience, but his story is so much more poignant and meaningful in light of the troubled and complicated adults all around him, all of whom are making their own complex forays into love. Joey is an adolescent at the crossroads, trying to figure out his own sexual identity, what to make of his overbearing father, and how to share a room with his eccentric great-uncle (Lithgow) who has to move in with the family. At the end we leave Joey much as we leave Mason-- we don’t know for sure if they have learned enough yet to successfully navigate their way through the rest of their lives--but I would put my money on Joey because of his ability to be vulnerable and because he has been witness to true love. He has also had meaningful conversations with important people in his life (including professional counselors) who have helped him better understand what he is feeling. Artistically, there is also no comparison between the two closing scenes in these two movies. Where Boyhood kept me at arm's length and frankly exhausted me in its attempt to chronicle "normal" life, Love Is Strange drew me in and promoted empathy towards its main characters; such is the power of an artistic expression of life.