Sunday afternoon at the Angelika Film Centre in Plano, Texas is packed: the lines reach the back of the door. A pair of college kids split up: divide and conquer the line is the way to go, winner take tickets and bragging rights. As I enter theater number 2, the room is reaching capacity. I need to act fast. I choose the seat in front of a lad wearing spectacles who more than likely puts my 'film nerd' cred to shame. A few trailers whiz by; I make mental notes to check out a few. Suddenly, the jangly opening chords of Coldplay's "Yellow" fills the air. Cue the title card: "Boyhood."
For the first forty-five minutes, my mind reflects on the articles I read prior: Richard Linklater's "Boyhood" is a marvel of production. Following the same group of actors for eleven years, it's the closest a coming of age story has come to being seen in real time. It questions iron-clad understandings of family, growth, and what it means to be a man. Already, "Boyhood" is regarded as one of the best films of the year, the decade, the century.
However, as the movie progresses the articles fade, and instead I follow the lives of the characters. Mason (Ellar Coltrane) remains quiet for the most part, an observer soaking up information like a sponge. He's distracted, doesn't turn in his homework, and rebels against the expected go-to-college, get-a-job path. Samantha (Lorelei Linklater) is his older sister, outspoken but good-hearted. She annoys and irritates her family, but her comments are blunt, hard truths, often necessary to the situation at hand. Olivia (Patricia Arquette) is their mother: single and struggling, not just with finances and the pressures of earning a college degree, but with her identity, as well. In a shouting match with her date, she exclaims, "I was somebody's daugther; now I'm somebody's mother!" There was no time to discover where she stood in the world, exploring who she wanted to be before responsibility was thrust on her. On the other end of the spectrum lies Mason Sr. (Ethan Hawke), the kids' father, a man-child, happy to drive in his GTO, away from responsibility towards any idyllic stress-free success.
The years bring new fads, people, ideas, influences, complications, and freedoms. Texas becomes a perfect melting pot for these events: Mason is exposed to the indie rock, pot-smoking weirdness of Austin, the gun-toting, church-going charm of the country. On the surface, these locations and their inhabitants make us laugh; we think Linklater is satirizing. And while these portrayals are exaggerated, the movie doesn't needlessly take sides. The characters are raised liberally, but it doesn't mean Mason doesn't enjoy going out shooting with his grandfather. The differences are never enough to split people up; they're all just trying to navigate and make sense out of life.
"Boyhood" ends in the desert sunset. Mason and a new college friend sit in a valley, getting to know each other. They talk about their roommates and how much fun college can be. A pause in the conversation leads to the friend questioning the idea of "seizing the moment." In a moment of eternal pot-filled wisdom, she flips the phrase: "the moment seizes us."
We are vulnerable, aware of our own mortality, and absolutely terrified. For how old we get, we are not only unable to forge a path to what we believe to be glory, success, or peace, we have no idea how to. As Mason Sr. puts it, explaining his arrangement of the songs in a Beatles mixtape: "First, it's about the party, then somebody else says 'no, it's about God', 'no it's about love and pain', then the last one just asks, 'Can't we learn to be happy with what we have?'"
"Boyhood" reminds us that for as much as we pump up our importance and place so much weight on our decisions, we all succumb to time. Death is inevitable, but as long as we appreciate the time we do have, we'll be okay. The moment seizes us; mine is currently filled with couples falling in love, friends discussing the Palestinian-Isreali conflict, and a singer-songwriter belting out a soulful melody. Seems like I'm doing just fine.
Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.
"Boyhood" trailer: