Canadian writer/director Megan Park’s new film is one of the summer’s sweetest surprises: a deeply moving, intimately emotional, and tartly humorous coming-of-age saga ... but not in the way you’d expect.
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| Although Elliott (Maisy Stella, left) doesn't initially believe that a mysterious newcomer (Aubrey Plaza) is her older self, doubts are erased quickly ... which opens the door to all manner of questions. |
The crucial message — so simple, yet profound — is that life is full of change. We need to cherish every moment, because one never knows if it might be the last time in that place, or with those people, or enjoying a particular activity.
We’ve all thought it: If I knew then, what I know now, I’d have paid more attention.
All this said, Park presents this moral in a most unusual manner.
The time is present day, the setting Canada’s gorgeous Muskoka Lakes region, near the southern tip of Ontario, 140 miles above Toronto. The place practically screams youthful innocence; cinematographer Kristen Correll’s gorgeous tableaus could be framed and hung in prestigious museums.
Free-spirited Elliott (Maisy Stella), two weeks away from heading off to university, is making the most of each day with besties Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) and Ro (Kerrice Brooks). They’re introduced in a small outboard boat, as Elliott motors them to a remote island, where she intends to celebrate her 18th birthday by tripping on mushrooms with them, and spending the night at their improvised campsite.
By doing so, she has blown off dinner with her family: her father Tom (Alain Goulem), mother Kathy (Maria Dizzia) and younger brothers Max (Seth Isaac Johnson) and Spencer (Carter Trozzolo). The family tableau is quietly awkward; they even baked a cake, which Spencer took pains to decorate.
(Elliott later insists that she informed her mother of these plans, and Kathy graciously acknowledges that may have been the case ... but it’s far more likely that the girl gave no thought to how her family might wish to celebrate her birthday with her.)
On the island, shortly after drinking mushroom-laced tea, Ruthie and Ro quickly succumb to benign — and amusing — hallucinations. Elliott, to her dismay, feels nothing ... at least, that’s what she thinks, until an older woman suddenly appears, sitting next to her on the log, in front of the fire.
Once past being startled, Elliott is astonished to discover that she has somehow conjured up her 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza). Initial disbelief melts away when “older Elliott” is able to demonstrate physical proof of her identity; then, of course, Elliott demands to know everything that’ll happen to her, moving forward.
But her older self is reticent, not wanting to ruin any of the surprises ahead. Things also turn metaphysical, when she senses the hazard of “messing with the order of things.”
Elliott is too excited to worry about such stuff, or how this could possibly be happening ... and here’s the beauty of Park’s clever touches. Stella’s performance is so genuine, so captivating and “in the moment,” that we accept this Impossible Thing, because Elliott does. Stella is a true find, and this is an impressive big-screen acting debut.
The subsequent banter between Elliott’s two selves is enthusiastic, often hilarious and unexpectedly solemn. Older Elliott can’t help occasionally teasing, and nobody handles playfully tart repartée better than Plaza. But there’s also something dark and sad in the older woman’s gaze; she finally relents, in the face of Elliott’s constant badgering, and encourages her younger self to make the most of these final two weeks with her parents and brothers.
And warns her to “avoid anyone named Chad.”
This seems easy enough, since Elliott has long been wholly into fellow females, and currently enjoys an active sex life with her barista girlfriend, Chelsea (Alexandra Riviera).
Elliott’s older self vanishes when the mushrooms wear off; she and her friends return to their respective homes. Imagine Elliott’s surprise, then, when she discovers that her father has hired a university student named Chad (Percy Hynes White, recognized from television’s Wednesday) to help work the family’s cranberry farm.
(There’s an avocation you don’t often see.)
The farm has been in the family for generations, but although Elliott has helped willingly, she has no interest in continuing the tradition ... which is fine, because Max, the elder of her two brothers, has long been keen to do so.
Mindful of her older self’s admonition, Elliott does her best to avoid Chad ... but he’s so damn cute, and personable, that this becomes increasingly difficult. He’s initially bewildered by her behavior, but far from put off; it makes her oddly endearing. She, in turn, finds his persistence confounding ... but not unwelcome.
Park doesn’t make a big deal over this sexual candor; it’s simply the natural way Elliott, her friends and Chad think and act. We might wonder if Elliott’s parents know or care that their daughter is gay, but this doesn’t matter, and the script doesn’t go there.
The flirty encounters with Chad aside, Elliott takes her older self’s advice to heart, and focuses more on her family: at first clumsily, which feels natural, but soon with more conviction, tenderness and love. This second act is the film’s emotional heart, as Elliott gets key moments with each of the four; Stella and all four co-stars handle these scenes perfectly. Dizzia is particularly fine during a confessional exchange on their front porch.
Elliott’s effort to bond with the golf-loving Max requires a bit more effort.
As these encounters continue, the beauty of Stella’s performance is that we see and feel Elliott becoming a better version of herself; it’s quite touching. The fact that Chad keeps flitting around adds a gently comic note, and (of course!) we wonder where that will go.
The means by which Elliott subsequently maintains occasional contact with her older self is an eyebrow lift, but you’ve gotta roll with it. (Okay, then; two Impossible Things.) But Park’s script is so deft, her touch so carefully measured, that the contrivance merely becomes the vehicle for essential emotional truths. We’re so charmed by these characters, and invested in what they’ll do, that nothing else matters.
These events are enhanced by the alternately gentle and lush orchestral score by composer/guitarist Jaco Caraco and musician Tyler Hilton (Park’s husband).
Despite so many admirable qualities, I fear this film won’t find the audience it deserves, because of its frankly gawdawful title. Granted, it has context within the story, but that works only after you get warm bodies into theater seats.
That could be an uphill lift, which is a shame ... because Park’s film is a genuine treasure.
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