The Beautiful Nonsensicality of The Way, Way Back

The summer movie season has had its highlights for me (Much Ado About Nothing, The […]

Win Jordan / 8.1.13

kinopoisk.ruThe summer movie season has had its highlights for me (Much Ado About Nothing, The Great Gatsby, and – admittedly – Despicable Me 2). But it’s been the blockbusters that have often been biggest letdowns. Iron Man 3, Man of Steel, and The Wolverine were all pretty underwhelming, each reaping as much destruction on their worlds as possible (and then some). Maybe I’m just tired of all of the buildings collapsing.

Yesterday, I found the perfect antidote in The Way Way Back, which tells the story of the 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James) who is forced to spend the summer with his mom (Toni Collette) and her boyfriend, Trent (Steve Carell) at Trent’s beach house. Described as “spring break for adults,” the beach transforms Trent, Duncan’s mom, and all of their neighbors into oversized adolescents, drinking and playing all day, and getting stoned at night. Duncan escapes to a nearby water park and gets a job, finding some unexpected guidance in his fellow employees.

The film could be mistaken as merely a sentimental coming-of-age story, but The Way Way Back strikes a deeper emotional chord. Scott Tobias of The Dissolve (Pitchfork’s new website about film, which I heartily recommend) wrote a negative review of the film in which he described it as implausible and predictable. His first paragraph was of particular interest to me.

“Duncan spends half the movie wearing an expression somewhere between mopey and eerily absent, as if he’s gone beyond ordinary teenage malaise and half-checked out of consciousness altogether…It would be one thing if Duncan were merely an unformed mass of quirks and emotions, but he’s such a blank that it’s a wonder why anyone takes an interest in him, the audience included.”

It’s true. Duncan doesn’t have much “social utility,” if you will. In the opening scene of the movie when Trent asks Duncan to rate himself on a scale of 1 to 10, Duncan answers that he’s a 6. Trent shoots that down and says, “I think you’re a 3.” Duncan carries this rating around with him the entire film. It mistakenly confirms the feeling of worthlessness that he’s understandably developed in a family in which nobody really loves him. His mom tries to love him but fails, caught as she is between him and Trent. Duncan’s father is out on the West Coast, and like a lot of kids from broken families, the only solution Duncan sees is to shut down emotionally and shut everyone out. There isn’t any reason for anybody to take an interest in Duncan – he’s pure foolishness to the eyes of the world – which is why it’s so great when people do reach out to him.

Top of the Slide

Owen, the care-free manager of the water park (played by the always fantastic Sam Rockwell), is the one who sees worth in Duncan, and he sets out to help him see this worth as well. He gives Duncan a job at the water park where he starts to come out of his shell interacting with the eccentric staff. While the adults disappear into irresponsibility, Duncan flourishes in responsibility. The water park becomes his sanctuary where he is free to be vulnerable, be loved, and even dance a little. When Duncan tells Owen about Trent’s rating of him as a “three” Owen forcefully points out, “that’s not about you. That’s about him.” You can see Duncan’s identity as a “three” being shattered by Owen and the rest of the water park staff.

Towards the end, Owen physically places himself between Duncan and the judgmental and imposing law-figure, Trent. Owen intercedes (!) for him. Owen doesn’t make Trent’s judgment go away, but he frees Duncan from being ruled by it. This freedom makes a new Duncan whom his family is baffled by. No longer is he the angry kid trying not to be seen; he’s smiling, laughing, and hopeful.

So, yes, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but that’s the beauty of grace. Our relationship with Christ doesn’t make a whole lot of sense either. How can he see us as people worth dying for when we are the way we are? But it’s Christ who comes and rescues us, intercedes for us, and gives us new identities. So, if you want a reminder of that (and just want to smile widely for a couple of hours) definitely forego the superhero flicks and check out The Way Way Back.

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COMMENTS


4 responses to “The Beautiful Nonsensicality of The Way, Way Back

  1. hespenshied says:

    Agreed! This is the best film of the summer for me.

    It has that Juno/Little Miss Sunshine vibe, but maybe a little more understated.

    In the “Owen intercedes” scene you mention, “friend of the 3” has to be one of my favorite movie lines in a long time.

  2. John Golden says:

    I’ve been waiting for a Mockingbird post on this movie. Thought it was charming, well written and acted, and very real in the relationships. Frustratingly real at times.

    @hespenshied – agreed! We had to come home and watch Little Miss Sunshine. It occurred to us while watching that LMS is almost like if Toni Collettte had married Trent in WWB.

  3. John Zahl says:

    Saw it last night and loved it too! Such universal themes, the main ones, the ones that are so close to the bone/heart. Reminded me of this great quote from Jungel that Liberate tweeted this morning:
    “[God’s] love is not a love which is kindled by the beautiful, but rather a love which beatifies that which is ugly by loving it.” The role that Sam Rockwell plays is profound, from the opening smile as he’s driving behind the family in traffic, to the crucial (serious) conversation he has with Duncan at the top of the slide toward the end, where he speaks just a bit about his father. Thanks for the great post!

  4. Gmcnamee says:

    So very incisiveand gave a very heartfelt narrative about being alone and feeling lost great ensemble a ting particularly the never disappointing sam Rockwell.

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