As you get older, your adolescence starts to feel more and more like a dream that you once had. Who WAS that 16 year old with my name and who sort of looked like me? And why did he (or she) do so many stupid things? And who were all of those other people? What became of them?
This is a film about teenagers that embraces that dream state. It starts in the middle of a bunch of stories and it ends in the middle, too, leaving behind its ethereal effect. In between, it drifts loosely like a piece of music.
The sensitive boy who likes a sweet girl, but who runs into trouble with the law because he doesn’t know yet how to handle his intoxicants, he’s a moody trumpet.
The girl who likes him back, but who, like him, doesn’t know how to say it and who has problems of her own that include an off-putting family and a touchy-feely male teacher who plays with her emotions, she’s a sad piano.
The troublemaker kid who’s constantly digging his own holes (and a few holes for others), he’s a bawdy trombone.
The girl who falls under his spell, for a brief time, at least, she’s a sensual flute.
It’s a teen movie for the arthouses. Its climaxes are quiet and it’s got heroes that make you want to reach through the screen and counsel them a little bit. All of this pain is temporary. You’ll likely have pain later in life, but it will be new pain over new people. All of this someday will feel like a dream. Misty and strange. In the end, you didn’t just grow up. You woke up.
Based on a short story collection by actor James Franco (who also acts here as the horny girl’s soccer coach) and written and directed by Gia Coppola, granddaughter of old Francis Ford. Make of that what you will. Me, I think they came up with something unique.