Sydney Film Festival Review: Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Thomas Mann & Molly Shannon in
Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Alfonso Gomez-Rejon tackles the uneventful endeavor of directing Jesse Andrew's adaptation of his own novel that perhaps a few people may have asked for: a movie about a teenage boy Greg (Thomas Mann) who has to deal with someone dying of cancer.  Not that we didn't already get that movie with The Fault in Our Stars, but instead of sentimental irony, we get an offbeat, self-absorbed loner who makes film shorts influenced by a full cinematic education before the age of sixteen.  He has a privileged existence: intelligent and loving parents who care about shaping his character; a safe, trendy town with a good school; etc. He really has nothing to complain about. He didn't win the genetic lottery and isn't the star quarterback (not sure if his high school even has football), but he has certainly turned surviving the teenage years into an art. He maintains amiable associations with everyone but doesn't have close relations with anyone.  With his designated "co-worker" Earl (RJ Cyler), he spends his time making movies influenced by his early, rich education in film cultivated by his father (Nick Offerman), as well as refined teacher Mr. McCarthy (Jon Bernthal).  It's all very secondary school hipster. The smug self-awareness can be quite nauseating. And for most of the film, it is. It's as if "me" can't find a reason to exist, so the film invents one for him: the dying girl, Rachel (Olivia Cooke).  His mother (Connie Britton) forces him to befriend her.  

The mechanics are all too apparent, and the script is a little too proud about wearing its wit on its sleeve.  Yet, Gomez-Rejon manages to force all of it down our throats without it being completely cloying.  Claymation is used, as well as a talking wall poster. And the series of shorts made by the hands of Greg and Earl are often fun and clever.  There's a plot hiccup towards the end with a prom that takes place at the end of the year. Something gets lost in translation linearly speaking; it leads to a manipulative, yet sweet climax.  I read the script earlier this year and pondered just how Earl was going to top himself with his final opus.  But he does partly because he does something original for a change.  The director cheats a little and it will make a few eyes roll, but, if you're caught up in the moment, it works and squeezes out some tears. It's exactly what the audience asks for, anyway.  

The kids are fine, especially Olivia Cooke. Katherine C. Hughes, Masam Holden, and Matt Bennett make impressions in shorter roles. However, the strongest work can be found in the adults who all play from the sidelines. Britton shows some nice range from her TV work; Offerman tosses out his lines with comic precision; and Bernthal continues to carve himself out as a dependable character actor.  However, it's Molly Shannon who is MVP here as a mother carrying the weight of a dying teenage daughter and the helplessness of not being able to save her.  Shannon's work always comes off as humorous, intended or otherwise.  And when it's no where near deliberate is when her laughs are the most heartbreaking.  She's simply a quiet marvel.  

This past January, Earl debuted at Sundance, along with two other coming-of-age films, Dope (about a young black man), and and The Diary of a Teenage Girl.  Though both of the other films weren't any more universal than Earl, it's not like they were any less relevant or lower in quality.  Each film has its strengths and weaknesses, and, in the end, all of them end up around the same level.  And while Teenage Girl wasn't a crowdpleaser, Dope undeniably was.  Incidentally, Earl has a young black man and a teenage girl as supporting characters who take a backseat to Earl's teenage angst.  And the fact that this was the film that Sundance decided to shower with an Audience Award and Grand Jury Prize paints this "indie" festival into a rather painfully myopic and generic corner.  I'd like to also take some blogs to task like Film School Rejects, Hitfix, Slash Film, and Twitch Film.  Earl ain't all that, and while everyone is entitled to their opinion, I find no qualms judging those who were complicit in their knee-jerk over-exertion of love for a movie that was serviceable, if not forgettable.