Back in 2002, indie darling Richard Linklater
began production on a movie that would chronicle a six year old boy’s journey through
childhood, puberty and end on his first day in college. The kicker? The
director felt that, in order to recapture the authenticity of growing up and
maturing into an adult, he would have to film his pet project over the course
of 12 years using the same child actor surrounded by the same supporting cast,
with no replacements along the way.
Boyhood sounds like the kind of bold indie
experiment that can’t be pulled off. A film production spanning 12 years? What
if some of the cast members lose interest before completion? And won’t the end
result be patchy and unfocused? Both justified questions and legitimate
concerns, but this is Linklater we’re talking about, the very same filmmaker
who successfully pulled off real-time sequels with the beloved Before… trilogy, in which we revisit
Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke’s characters after 9 year intervals. With this in
mind, Boyhood feels like the next
logical step in Linklater’s progression as an auteur.
As with the Before…
films and especially Slacker, there’s
no real plot to speak of. In fact, those who prefer a their movies with a
defined narrative are likely to be put off by Boyhood’s seemingly random structure, but that would be missing the
point. This is a viewing experience more akin to flicking through a series of
family photo albums or, to adopt Ethan Hawke’s more eloquent spin, “like
witnessing timelapse photography of a human being”. Throughout the film we see our
protagonist Mason (Ellar Coltrane) struggle with his absent father, witness his
mother get domestically abused by an authoritarian husband and deal with heartbreak
after being dumped by high school sweetheart, but rarely are these events
followed by the catharsis you’d get in mainstream cinema. As we all know, life
is often little more than a succession of events void of meaning or interconnection
and for this reason, there’s an authenticity to Boyhood that feels immensely refreshing.
Of course, the film rests on the very delicate
shoulders of Ellar Coltrane, who we watch grow from a 6 year old youngster to
an 18 year old young man in the space of two and a half hours. Luckily for us,
he is a joy to be around. There’s none of the wide-eyed staring we’d typically
get from a pre-pubescent Daniel Radcliffe, nor the swagger and sardonic wit
synonymous with a teenage Zac Efron or Shia LaBeouf – because of his lack of
exposure to the film industry, Coltrane never comes across as a performer, but
as an average kid who just happens to be caught on camera. When Mason bickers
with his sister Samantha (Linklater’s daughter, Lorelei), it’s like watching
memories of your own fights with your sibling; when he reaches the age when
girls start flirting with him, his discomfort and embarrassment feel genuine.
Admittedly, his penchant for putting an existential spin on everyday life in
the latter stages of the film is a little too reminiscent of Jesse in Before Sunrise, but then again, didn’t
we all fancy ourselves as philosophers of life when we were eighteen?
While Coltrane does a solid job as Mason, it
would be a big mistake not to acknowledge Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette’s
efforts as his on-screen parents, who both also do a fair amount of maturing over the course of 12 years. She’s goes from being a fragile single mother
constantly falling for the wrong men, to becoming a strong, independent woman
who also eventually finds professional fulfillment. He on the other hand starts
off as an irresponsible parent who refuses to grow up, before eventually
settling down with a new family while also finding the time to be the wiser
father figure that Mason so clearly needs. Despite both having forged careers
in the film industry, Hawke and Arquette deliver poignant and believable turns
that you’d struggle to get out of, say, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.
Adding further to the whole mix is Linklater’s
reluctance to use intertitles and instead relies on music (The Hives and
Coldplay lead to Arcade Fire and Family of the Year) and justifiable product
placement (CD players are swiftly replaced with iPods) to signal the passing of
the years. It’s in those moments that you realise Boyhood is not just the story of a boy becoming a man, it is also the
most nostalgic portrayal of the 2000s to date. There's no denying it, Linklater’s
lovely little masterpiece already feels like a classic.
5/5
