«Mid90s and the art of saying nothing, to say everything

Les mercredis du cinéma - Kelly Lambiel

T-shirt Street Fighter, console Super Nintendo in hands, poster featuring the Wu-Tang rap group logo, cover Ninja Turtles and an attempt to swap a skateboard for a disc man, there's no doubt that this is 1995. Just when we thought they were a bit old-fashioned, pale in comparison to the flamboyant eighties and the new millennium, it's clear that the nineties are more popular than ever.

Bringing to the screen an era considered the last to have known the «real» world (without the devil himself, the Internet!) and to have experienced the awkwardness of private conversations in front of the whole family because of a cursed wire, is very much in the spirit of the times, but also proves to be a daring gamble. 

Was it better before?

A strong comeback for sneakers and large, colorful tracksuit tops, a new Spice Girls tour, the first console craze, the creation of new Polaroid formats, the Goncourt Prize awarded to a novel set in 1992, film adaptations of the Disney films that made the VHS format famous - have we gone back in time? Having grown up in the Nineties myself, I have to admit that if someone had told me one day that they'd be «à la mode», I'd have laughed. Not that I have a negative view of my childhood, but given the speed at which the world is evolving, I wonder what they could bring to today's generations. 

The theatrical release of Mid90S piqued my curiosity. «Great, a film that's going to highlight all the positive things that used to be, and that will be able to speak for the old young people we've now become». The result? We weren't actually doing much. 

An aesthetic of simplicity

We discover the life of thirteen-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic), who, like any youngster of his age, is at odds with his family and looking for figures to identify with. It's in the bedroom of his older brother, with whom he has a particularly violent relationship, that he first tries to learn his teenage role. Naturally, this involves style first and foremost, which is why he scrutinizes his clothes and draws inspiration from his tapes and CDs. But as is often the case, it's out there, in a colorful group of skateboarders made up of Ray (Na-Kel Smith), «Fuckshit» (Olan Prenatt), «Fourth Grade» (Ryder McLaughlin) and Ruben (Gio Galicia) that the now nicknamed «Sunburn» will find his place. 

It's a time of first experiences, joys and sorrows. Laughter, fights, skateboarding, the smile or misunderstanding in Stevie's eyes. That's all we're told, in all simplicity. Between benevolence and bad influence, between recklessness and sometimes dangerous risk-taking, the script could at any moment tip over into drama or, conversely, echo a moralizing message about this youth that we can both criticize for its flippancy and defend for its courage. But no, nothing of the sort. For his first film, Jonah Hill tells nothing. 

And by saying nothing, it seems to me that Jonah Hill is really saying everything. These kids aren't that different from the kids of today, and they're probably not that different from the kids of yesterday or tomorrow either. No matter what universe you're in, you're always both a little lost and totally at home in adolescence. Every generation seems to have experienced the paradoxical feeling of being both the most heroic, because they're going through difficult things that adults can't understand, and the most lost, because we keep hearing that things were better before, and end up thinking they really were!

Efficient use of resources

For me, Jonah Hill's aesthetic choices are a perfect match for a film that doesn't pretend to show more than a small slice of reality. There's a slight graininess to the image, which, accompanied by a resolute soundtrack, is a real pleasure to watch. old school and groovie, lends the film a slightly vintage totally consistent with the subject. The actors also contribute to this real-life effect. None of them are professionals, at least for the moment, as some of them show a certain potential, and physically distance themselves from Hollywood stereotypes. In this respect, it's worth noting the choice, which I consider judicious, of a surprisingly dwarfed «hero» who naturally rubs shoulders with a world that seems too big for him. 

Finally, it's worth noting the obvious elegance of the direction, which uses very little dialogue. In this way, no interpretation is forced into the mouths of the protagonists by too much elaboration, which would have given it an artificial character. The film strikes me as a successful balancing act. Indeed, it has a disarming simplicity that highlights a complex, philosophical reality that doesn't need to be disguised, as in Ray's words to Sunburn: «Very often our lives suck, but if you knew everybody else's secrets, you wouldn't trade their shit for yours.»

Write to the author: lambielkelly@hotmail.com

Photo credit: © Tobin Yelland for Filmcoopi