The Edge of Seventeen

THE EDGE OF SEVENTEEN (Kelly Fremon Craig, 2016)

Smart and strong-willed seventeen-year-old Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld) has always felt like an outsider at home and among her classmates. Her brother Darian (Blake Jenner) is popular and can seemingly do no wrong in the eyes of their parents. She never seems to see eye to eye with her mother Mona (Kyra Sedgwick). Her father was one of the rare people who understand Nadine, so when he dies unexpectedly, she feels she’s lost her foundation. Now a high school junior in the comedy-drama THE EDGE OF SEVENTEEN, her longtime best friend Krista (Haley Lu Richardson) is virtually the only person who helps Nadine feel less alone.

This key relationship dissolves when Nadine discovers Krista being intimate with Darian. She considers it a betrayal of the highest order and thinks that demanding that Krista have nothing to do with her brother will right the wrong. To her surprise, Krista refuses to stop being involved with him, leading Nadine to cut off communication with the person she’s closest to. Now feeling more isolated than ever, Nadine reaches out to Erwin (Hayden Szeto), who has awkwardly shown interest in her. She also turns to her history teacher Mr. Bruner (Woody Harrelson), whose lunches she interrupts with her anxious chatter and a dramatic announcement that she’s going to kill herself.

THE EDGE OF SEVENTEEN writer-director Kelly Fremon Craig recognizes that people in general, and teenagers in particular, can get so obsessed with the stuff swirling inside their own heads that they fail to understand what others are dealing with and invite more of the problems on which they fixate. Nadine would likely deny that she’s a narcissist because she isn’t vain, but her self-absorption runs deep. She nurtures her aggrieved feelings and think they make her special, possibly even superior. Nadine clings to a limited and melodramatic worldview that is inward-looking to the point that she blinds herself to the misery she’s generating in her life and those around her. It’s apparent that she’s always been uncomfortable with herself and takes that out on others too.

Nadine is a complicated character, both self-hating and sharply funny, sometimes cruelly so. Steinfeld does a remarkable job of molding the self-involved teen into someone who can be exasperating without snuffing what’s inherently likable about her. She makes her into someone that can be empathized with yet never pitied. When she does something that embarrasses her or who she’s with, her actions evoke laughing and cringing. Nadine has a tendency to be her own worst enemy. Steinfeld doesn’t try to ingratiate herself for the audience’s benefit but inhabits Nadine’s naked neediness and confusion as the natural state of teenage existence.

To that end, Nadine’s interactions with Mr. Bruner go a long way in humanizing her and gaining perspective. To someone overhearing parts of their conversations in the hallway, the teacher’s sarcastic give-and-take with his emotional student might sound grossly insensitive. It’s funny and at least a little alarming when THE EDGE OF SEVENTEEN opens with him brushing off her intention to commit suicide, but the more we come to know about how they talk to one another, the more his dry humor in serious conversations is how he’s able to signal that he cares without getting touchy-feely, which neither of them seem oriented toward being. THE EDGE OF SEVENTEEN doesn’t dismiss what Nadine is going through as a phase, but through Mr. Bruner it is capable of taking the long view to relate to her anxiety and know that in time she can get past it.

Grade: B+

The DUFF

THE DUFF (Ari Sandel, 2015)

Nearly every development and stylistic touch in THE DUFF has appeared in at least one other high school comedy, with MEAN GIRLS and EASY A serving as primary influences. Nevertheless, THE DUFF displays enough of its own charm and wisdom to distinguish it from the teen films with which it has much in common. Although it all looks and feels exceedingly familiar, director Ari Sandel and screenwriter Josh A. Cagan handle the material with sensitivity and insight.

Seniors Bianca Piper (Mae Whitman) and her two best friends, Jess Harris (Skyler Samuels) and Casey Cordero (Bianca A. Santos), don’t rule Malloy High School but have enough social capital to grant them high-ranking status. Actually, that holds true for Jess and Casey, who are admired for their kindness and toughness, while the undefined Bianca drafts on her prettier friends’ desirability to hang with the cooler kids. About a month before homecoming Bianca is made aware of her function in the social order when Wesley Rush (Robbie Amell), the popular boy next door, informs her that she is what’s known as the DUFF, or Designated Ugly Fat Friend. The DUFF’s role is to remain socially invisible while operating as a gatekeeper to his or her better-looking friends.

Wesley tells Bianca that the term isn’t literal, just that it refers to the least attractive person in the group, as if that takes away the sting. Bianca was unaware that this is how she is perceived and does not take the news well. She gets mad at Jess and Casey and cuts off communication with them, which just isolates her more from her classmates. When Wesley’s failing grades get him suspended from the football team, Bianca strikes a deal to help him pass science in return for him teaching her how to shed her DUFF qualities.

Wesley’s hurtful remarks put events in THE DUFF into motion, but the film resists being cruel. Although Bianca is embarrassed and humiliated at times, she’s never pitied as though she is some hideous girl who requires a magical transformation to be liked and loved. It’s key that THE DUFF does not have a moment in which Bianca lets her hair down or takes off proverbial glasses to reveal her inner hottie. Her fashion preferences for overalls, novelty tees, and flannel shirts may not do her any favors in getting noticed, but she’s comfortable wearing those clothes, which makes Bianca beautiful in a way that suits her.

THE DUFF hits upon an ingenious observation about teenage insecurity that a lot of these films tend to miss when changing their ugly ducklings into swans. Feeling lack of self worth is as much, if not mostly, the result of the messages one tells oneself than what others might think and say. Bianca is right to be offended that Wesley labels her as a DUFF, but her problems begin when she accepts his comments as fact. Previously she’d been at ease with herself, even when she was awkward. Jess and Casey’s words and actions contradict Wesley’s statement. The trio have a genuine friendship instead of a tool for socially engineering more popularity for Jess and Casey, but once Bianca adopts a negative self-image, she views everything through that lens.

THE DUFF’s wish fulfillment elements are generally believable because the screenplay establishes long-standing connections between many of the characters. Bianca and Wesley rank on different levels of the school’s social hierarchy, but they’ve also grown up together. Their budding attraction and casual conversations, including the one that instigates Bianca’s drop in confidence, ring of a certain kind of closeness that comes from knowing someone since childhood than a jock-nerd alliance of convenience. Whitman, perhaps best remembered as the forgettable Ann Veal on ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, shines in weathering Bianca’s emotional turbulence. Bianca is the smart, snarky sidekick pushed into the leading role, and Whitman invests her with humor, appealing eccentricity, vulnerability, and strength. Funny and sweet in spirit, THE DUFF shows that surviving high school can feel like running the gauntlet, but it can be a lot easier if you aren’t beating yourself.

Grade: B

Easy A

EASY A (Will Gluck, 2010)

In the comedy EASY A high school student Olive (Emma Stone) has her reputation soiled when an overheard and misunderstood conversation in the restroom leads to rumors of her promiscuity. The gossip improves her social standing, so Olive doesn’t make an effort to clear the air. When a classmate asks her to fake having sex with him so he’ll stop being bullied due to his homosexuality, she finds herself as the sole provider in a cottage industry to help the school’s outcast virgins.

By dressing more provocatively and SCARLET LETTER-like through the affixing of a large A to her clothes, Olive embraces the notorious position she now has within the school . Meanwhile, sanctimonious classmate Marianne (Amanda Bynes) leads a group of conservative religious students in a campaign to ostracize their presumably promiscuous peer.

Stone earns high marks in EASY A for her confident and vulnerable performance. She displays a good sense of timing and reaction when playing the comedic parts of the role, especially when it comes to verbal sparring. Stone also hits the right emotional notes when it becomes clear that the scrutiny and judgment by Olive’s peers have begun to take their toll. Like Carey Mulligan’s character in AN EDUCATION, Olive’s intelligence can be her greatest asset and shortcoming, and Stone locates the pain that comes in having her cleverness get the better of her and the superficial apathy she wears.

With EASY A director Will Gluck and screenwriter Bert V. Royal undertake an ambitious effort to make a movie about teen sexuality and double standards. The dialogue is sharp and funny throughout, even when the writer is obviously a little too pleased with his own wit. EASY A treats the issues and social pressures with a seriousness uncommon in similar films, although it tends to retreat when beginning to dig into tough questions.

The role of technology in the rapid distribution of rumors and instantaneous ability to ruin someone’s life goes unexplored, which is a missed opportunity considering that EASY A is framed by a webcast Olive uses to explain her story to the entire school. Examining the effects of social media in such a situation would have been a better use of time than the self-reflexive John Hughes references that the filmmakers indulge.

The film also take a wrong turn when complicating matters with a more comparable SCARLET LETTER scenario than Olive’s circumstances. Despite its faults, EASY A passes due to Stone’s star turn and a knowing screenplay that needed a little more bravery to elevate it to a top achievement.

Grade: B-

Drillbit Taylor

DRILLBIT TAYLOR (Steven Brill, 2008)

Gangly Wade (Nate Hartley) and chubby Ryan (Troy Gentile) are stoked for the first day of high school. They can carve out new, cool identities for themselves, that is until they show up wearing the same shirt and stand up for tiny, bullied Emmit (David Dorfman). These fashion and social blunders put them on the radar of Filkins (Alex Frost), the school's most fearsome bully. Filkins is emancipated from his Hong Kong-dwelling parents and snookers Principal Doppler (Stephen Root) with his Eddie Haskell act, meaning he is answerable to no one.

In DRILLBIT TAYLOR the boys determine that their only means for survival is to hire a bodyguard. They interview many but can only afford the curiously named Drillbit Taylor (Owen Wilson). Claiming to have been discharged from the Army for going beyond the permissible limits of heroism, Drillbit talks up his fighting and covert ops expertise to earn their trust. Whether he is telling the truth is beside the point. The homeless beggar is only interested in scrounging up a few hundred dollars to get him to the better life he believes is waiting in Canada.

Drillbit intends for the bodyguard arrangement to provide a quick monetary gain but discovers that he can string along the boys for much more. He holds impromptu self-defense lessons that he makes up as he goes along. To keep their suspicions down, Drillbit infiltrates their school using a substitute teacher's guise, which has the side benefit of attracting a pretty English teacher (Leslie Mann).

Produced by Judd Apatow and co-written by Seth Rogen, DRILLBIT TAYLOR has a been there, done that quality reminiscent of SUPERBAD if it were much tamer and less funnier. The character names may be different, but these types are mirror images of Michael Cera, Jonah Hill, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse. It's very easy to envision those actors' younger selves as Wade, Ryan, and Emmit. Although not a prequel in any way, DRILLBIT TAYLOR is essentially the unofficial bookend SUPERBAD: FRESHMAN YEAR and a sign of diminishing returns from the Apatow brand.

Ultimately DRILLBIT TAYLOR lacks enough fresh material with the boys to sustain interest for the stretches when their bodyguard is bumming around off-screen. Nothing distinguishes their ordeals from the zillion other teen comedies in decades past. Perhaps that shouldn't be surprising since John Hughes gets a story credit under the pseudonym Edmond Dantes.

Yet for as overly familiar much of DRILLBIT TAYLOR is, Wilson salvages a good deal of it with his trademarked space case shtick. The lines he delivers aren't inherently funny; it's how sunnily and seriously he speaks them in his lilting voice that makes the words humorous. The Zen cowboy/mystic surfer routine is fitting for a script that doesn't tether the character to the world or this particular cinematic one. Drillbit floats in and away when the spirit moves him, leaving the bulk of a film named after him to the three boys he's supposed to be protecting.

Where Wilson struggles, though, is in defining a character that the writers don't see clearly. Is Drillbit looking to exploit the kids, or does he truly like them and take their safety to heart? Is there something darker spinning in his head, or is he an amiable bum with a severe lack of motivation? DRILLBIT TAYLOR suggests all of these as it flip-flops to an ending that opts for the softest landing. The film could have cut loose more if the writers decided Drillbit doesn't care at all or is a mother hen. It's safer in the school hallways to stay neutral, but in comedy a side needs to be picked.

Grade: C

Charlie Bartlett

CHARLIE BARTLETT (Jon Poll, 2007)

Tossed out of yet another private school, this time for making fake Connecticut driver's licenses, Charlie Bartlett (Anton Yelchin) is forced to enroll at the most fearsome of places: the public high school. The seventeen-year-old worries that he won't be popular with his new classmates. Sure enough, the blazer-wearing, attaché case-carrying kid is on the receiving end of a swirly and hallway beatdown courtesy of mohawked bully Murphey Bivens (Tyler Hilton) on his first day.

Charlie is no stranger to psychiatrists' offices, although he doesn't find the solution to his problems on their couches but in their prescriptions. Ritalin makes him manic, but it also delivers the buzz that other students are more than happy to pay for. Seeing a lucrative and popularity-building opportunity staring him in the face, Charlie forges a business arrangement with Murphey. He will fake symptoms during his therapy sessions so he can procure the drugs. Charlie will then set himself up as a bathroom stall shrink and prescribe pills that Murphey will dispense. Thus a big man on campus is made in CHARLIE BARTLETT.

Charlie attracts the attention of alcoholic Principal Gardner (Robert Downey Jr.) when his enterprise expands to selling DVDs of Murphey's assaults on schoolyard weaklings. Dating Gardner's daughter Susan (Kat Dennings) doesn't put him in the administrator's good graces either.

CHARLIE BARTLETT borrows extensively from FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF and RUSHMORE but leaves behind a key ingredient for its teenage outsider hero: likability. Charlie is a self-entitled twerp who is not the least bit sympathetic no matter how much the filmmakers want to blame his overmedicated mother (Hope Davis) and absent father for his behavior. Speaking in a pinched voice and carrying himself with unfathomable smugness, Yelchin irritates every second he's on screen. Even Gandhi would be tempted to sock this self-satisfied brat in the nose a few times.

Ferris Bueller and Max Fischer, Charlie Bartlett's cinematic forebears, may have been self-absorbed, but fundamentally they were decent kids who accepted responsibility for their youthful misdeeds. Charlie's brazen disregard for anyone's best interests but his own is bad enough. That the film nurtures those feelings only makes it worse.

Plus, Ferris and Max were ingenious, puckish rebels who believed in what they were doing. Charlie applies a market analyst's approach to his subversive acts. He doesn't necessarily believe in his corporatized, co-opted rebellion; it's just what sells.

What makes the film even more unsavory is that Charlie, whose family is obscenely rich, technically keeps his hands clean when it comes to distributing the drugs or the school fight videos. The dirty work is for his presumbly blue collar classmate. Charlie isn't the one handing the drugs to the customers or dishing out the physical abuse recorded for entertainment. He's simply profiting from it.

Least appealing is the "laugh at the retards" material, an ugly side of a film with little charity available in it except for its supposedly beleaguered protagonist. (Considering how much Charlie takes advantage of the people who come to idolize him, it's curious that he becomes their folk hero.) The humor in general is stylized cleverness that seems more amused with itself than it really is. For instance, Charlie duets with his Klonopin-zonked mom on the theme song from All in the Family because it's ironic or something.

While CHARLIE BARTLETT'S spitting in the face of authority may thrill disenchanted teens, its obnoxiousness and phoniness is enough to make me feel like an old man yelling at kids to get off my lawn. We get it. Adults suck. Now shut up, junior.

Grade: D