Teen romance – Baltimore Magazine

Movie Review: Words on Bathroom Walls

Max Weiss — Fri, 11 Sep 2020 16:54:45 +0000

Words on Bathroom Walls shouldn’t have worked. For large chunks of the film, its depiction of mental illness is overly facile, bordering on cutesy.

Our teenage hero, Adam (Charlie Plummer), has just been diagnosed with schizophrenia. In his case, that manifests as not just visions and voices and paranoid delusions, but invisible buddies—seen only by him—that wouldn’t be out of place in a jokey Marvel pic. There’s Rebecca (AnnaSophia Robb), a Coachella-ready flower child, always dispensing words of new age wisdom. There’s Joaquin (Devon Bostick), a girl-crazy stoner wingman. And then there’s his bruising, bald-headed Bodyguard (Lobo Sebastian), the only slightly menacing one of the three, who is nonetheless there to protect him.

Needless to say, schizophrenia does not actually manifest in the form of movie-ready sidekicks.

But again, hear me out, Words on Bathroom Walls still manages to work, partly because it’s presented with such heartfelt conviction—and partly because the sidekicks are used sparingly.

Also, very much to the film’s credit, Adam’s schizophrenia is not “cured” (there is no cure), nor is this one of those films where a mentally ill person throws away his pills because he’s his truest and most creative self when he’s off them (although it flirts with that). And ultimately, what Words on Bathroom Walls does, expertly, is humanize schizophrenia, make us care very deeply for Adam (Plummer is excellent), while also showing how scary and traumatizing it can be for both the sick person and those who love him.

Adam, a budding chef, is starting at a new school—after a “nervous breakdown” at this last school, his classmates cruelly began bullying him and calling him “straightjacket” until he was forced to drop out. The new headmistress, a nun (it’s a Catholic school), knows that he’s sick, but his classmates don’t. He’s part of a new drug trial—the drugs help with the visions, but they also mess with his palate, ruinously—and the terms of his enrollment are that he stay on the drugs, which seems illegal, but what do I know?

He meets a girl, Maya (Taylor Russell), the school valedictorian who has a little side hustle going on—she sells tests and essays to her peers (at first Adam thinks she’s selling drugs). She’s bright and quick-witted and cynical and she’s drawn to the sensitive and dreamy Adam, despite thinking he’s weird (or perhaps because of that). The fact that Maya comes from a low-income family but tries to conceal it from Adam is an unnecessary bit of John Hughes-esque piffle—and a scene where Adam shows up at her home and whips up a chicken pot pie for her family (saving them from the TV dinners they would otherwise be condemned to) is more than a little ridiculous. (“It’s amazing what ingredients people just have lying around the house,” Adam says, by way of explanation.) Still, the romance between these two intelligent teens works.

Adam has a worried, loving mother who can often be seen hunched over a computer reading about schizophrenia, played by the always welcome Molly Parker, and a would-be stepfather, Paul (Walton Goggins), who ends up being the focus of Adam’s most paranoid obsessions. (He thinks Paul wants to send him away to a mental institution.) The evolution of Adam’s relationship with Paul is handled with patience and care.

One of the film’s great characters is a priest that Adam must confess to at school—despite the fact that Adam doesn’t believe in God. The priest, played with both gravity and twinkly wit by Andy Garcia, doesn’t try to turn Adam into a believer—instead he listens to him, with seriousness, mirth, and grace.

So here’s the thing: Despite occasionally turning schizophrenia into something that actually looks like fun, the film, directed nimbly by Thor Freudenthal, with a pop-culture-savvy screenplay by Nick Navada (based on Julia Walton’s novel), also has some disturbing and scary moments. Schizophrenia can be scary—there are times when we’re not totally sure that Adam, otherwise a total sweetheart, won’t hurt himself or, God forbid, someone else. The film has one of the most unusual prom scenes I’ve ever seen in a teen drama—instead of being the happy denouement of Adam and Maya’s budding romance, it’s a horrific nightmare as Adam tries to power through a paranoid episode.

It’s funny that a film can be both overly facile and clear-eyed at the same time, but Words on Bathroom Walls is just that. I’ve seen lots of films about mental illness that were filled with histrionics and darkness and gloom. Words on Bathroom Walls takes a more practical approach—mental illness sucks and but you can find ways to live with it. And maybe even get the girl.

Words on Bathroom Walls is playing exclusively in theaters. Check your listings.

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Maryland Movie Corner: ‘Step Up’

Max Weiss — Mon, 06 Apr 2020 12:19:00 +0000

Some films improve over time for reasons that have very little to do with the film itself. Step Up is a such a film. When it first came out in 2006, it was a standard issue teen romance—perhaps a smidge more authentic than most, with supporting characters that were a bit more fleshed out than the usual fare, but hardly revelatory.

It focused on Tyler (Channing Tatum), a foster kid from the wrong side of the tracks who is forced to do community service at the fictitious Maryland School for the Arts after he and his buddies vandalize the auditorium. There, he meets aspiring ballet dancer Nora (Jenna Dewan) who needs a partner for the senior showcase. From that point on, literally everything you expect to happen does.

So why has the film gotten better? Well, a lot has to do with Tatum himself. This was one of his first films—and he already was demonstrating some of the beefcake-y smolder combined with goofy charm that would make him a star. Also, famously, Tatum went on to fall in love with and marry his co-star, Dewan (they’ve since divorced). Strangely enough, as is the case with a lot of romantic partners on screen, their chemistry is nothing to write home about. (Then again, they’re playing high school students, so perhaps this is for the best.) Lastly, the film went on to launch an unlikely film series (including Step Up 3D!). Who would’ve seen that coming?

A legitimate complaint when the film came out is that there isn’t enough dancing in it—and I agree. That’s at least partly because Tatum, a pretty good B-Boy (and an even better male stripper), is not particularly good at the ballet/contemporary steps. He looks a bit galumphing.

It’s actually more realistic in a way—in a different film, Tyler would start out a hip hop dancer and end up the next Baryshnikov. There is, however, a scene where a bunch of kids go to an a warehouse party and break into a perfectly choreographed line dance together. (You won’t catch me complaining: I love a good teen precision dance interlude.)

Some parts work better than others: Tyler has a best friend, Mac (Damaine Radcliff), who’s a great basketball player, maybe good enough for a college scholarship. Instead, both he and Tyler waste time hotwiring cars, going to parties, and sacked out on the couch playing video games.

They claim it’s because the system is rigged against them—and they’re right. But are they really doing the most they can to rise about their life’s circumstances? The events of the film, somewhat ham-handedly, point them in the right direction—but the relationship between the two friends never feels less than authentic.

On the other hand, a subplot involving Nora’s joyless mother feels like an afterthought. But there’s a cute side romance brewing between Nora’s best friend (Drew Sidora) and the school’s budding music producer (Mario) that pays dividends.

It seems that the film’s director, Anne Fletcher, figured out what she had on her hands with Tatum. Even the final scene, meant to be a showcase for Nora’s talent, puts Tyler front and center—always a smart move. Which reminds me…is Magic Mike on Netflix?

Now onto the important part: How does it rate on the Baltimore Movie Scale?

How Baltimore Is It?: To be honest, not particularly. It seems that Baltimore is used as a generic stand-in for “gritty urban city.” That being said, it really was filmed in Baltimore. You’ll recognize a lot of the locations, including Canton, and there are ample views of the Baltimore skyline.

What They Got Right: Tyler’s friends are mostly African American and the “Maryland School for the Arts” has a nice racial mix. This is pretty refreshing after the lily white He’s Just Not That Into You. In one scene you can see the Domino Sugar sign, which seems pretty de rigueur for Baltimore films at this point.

Bonus: The film features arabbers!

What They Got Wrong: Well, of course there’s no such thing as the Maryland School for the Arts—and the film doesn’t even use the Baltimore School for the Arts as an exterior (they use Booker T. Washington Middle School on McCulloh Street instead). The school’s interior is actually the City Pier Baltimore, aka the old Homicide set (and now Sagamore Pendry hotel) in Fells Point.
Tyler is supposed to live on the mean streets of Hampden (lol) but it looks more like Dundalk. Also the film includes the following exchange:

Tyler: You ever been to Hampden?

Nora: There’s a place I go near there.

Okay, it was 2006 but I’m pretty sure an artsy high school kid would’ve been to Hampden. (The place “near” Hampden is actually the Riverside Power Plant on Broening Highway, i.e. NOT near Hampden.)

Mac’s mother works at the Baltimore Motel, which has a cool crab in the logo, but doesn’t exist. (It should, though.)

Also, they cast Baltimore’s own Mario as a…would-be producer? He barely gets to sing in the film, which seems like a wasted opportunity considering it’s a film about a performing arts school.

And oh yeah, not a single person in the film has a Baltimore accent.

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