THE WAY WAY BACK (2013)
Directed by Nat Faxon
and Jim Rash
Fox Searchlight, 103
minutes, PG-13
* * *
My family never owned a station wagon, so I had to be
reminded that the “way way back” references the loading end of such a vehicle.
If you’re a passenger in the seat-less way way back, it means you face away
from other passengers. That’s the opening and ending setting for this film and
its central metaphor. In this case, our wrong-way- facing passenger is
14-year-old Duncan (Liam James). It’s tough enough being 14, but it’s even
harder if you’re scarred from your parents’ divorce and don’t much like mom’s
new boyfriend, Trent (Steve Carrell). Duncan instantly sees what his moonstruck
mom, Pam (Toni Collette), refuses to view: Trent is a Type A, and the A stands
for asshole.
Duncan finds himself condemned to a beachside summer with
Trent, his snooty 15-year-old daughter Steph (Zoe Levin), and his mom making
cow eyes at Trent like she’s 14. How
will Duncan ever endure an entire summer? Why can’t he just go live with his
dad? He’s condemned to endless evenings with these creatures, plus next- door
neighbors Kip (Rob Corddry) and his girlfriend Joan (Amanda Peet). And then
there’s Betty (Allison Janney), a boozy, blowsy glad-hander with all the
subtlety of a fatal coronary. She’d like nothing better than for Duncan to
befriend her geeky son, Peter, who is much younger; if anything, Duncan has
eyes for her older daughter Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb). Were this a French film,
Duncan would come of age after sex with Susanna. Yeah, that would fly in the
abstinence-obsessed American Bible Belt where one is led to believe teenagers
never have sex. Off the table. Ain’t happening. Instead, directors Faxon and
Rash have to figure out a more acceptable way for Duncan to find the entrance
ramp to confidence and maturity.
Their approach is more fun than I ever thought it would be.
Duncan’s liberation comes in the form of a girl’s bicycle plucked from the
recesses of the garage. It’s the sort of thing a 7-year-old into My Little Pony
would ride, but Duncan doesn’t have much self-esteem left to damage; to him,
it’s a set of wheels to take him away from the adult aliens. It lands him at
the Water Wizz theme park, where he encounters a group of folks who aren’t much
better at being adults than he is at being an adolescent. It’s ‘managed’ by man-child
Owen (Sam Rockwell), a wisecracking slacker whose stream-of-consciousness
commentary is reminiscent of Robin Williams during his cocaine years. The place
is really run by Owen’s love (lust?) interest Caitlyn (Maya Randolph), with
very little help from surfer dude Roddy (Faxon) or eternal pessimist Lewis (Rash
channeling Michael O’Donoghue). It’s always party world at Water Whizz, though
the beer-guzzling and pot-smoking is considerably healthier than what’s going
on at the beach house, including Joan’s temptress moves on Trent.
Worlds collide. When Duncan learns of his father’s lack of
parental desire and has a heart-to-heart with Susanna, he begins to view Owen
as a surrogate dad. Owen couldn’t be a worse choice save in one respect—he cares
about Duncan and wants to see him snap out of his funk. Enter Duncan the Water
Whizz model employee. Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will (sort
of)—this is an American movie and we Yanks don’t like messy ambiguity. We also
have an outsized tolerance for broad humor that transgresses the stupidity
border. Some of the scenes in this flick make National Lampoon’s Summer Vacation seem like high art.
For all of this, The
Way Way Back has a goofy charm that’s a cut above must teenagers-in-peril
films. It starts with the cast, which is stellar no matter what one thinks of
their characters. Liam James plays Duncan as a perfect 14-year-old storm, and
Rockwell shows us just enough interior for us to know he’s more than an aging
frat boy. Rash is hysterical as a man self-trapped in a dead-end job, and
AnnaSophia Robb has an icy radiance that forces us to pay
attention to her. The script is littered with clichés, but in between there are
some brilliant lines, and the overall pacing is terrific. I suppose it’s even
mildly subversive in its lack of a happily-ever-after ending and its impression
that nuclear families are generally more dysfunctional than wholesome. Duncan’s
takeaway point is worth considering: the people that choose you matter more than the ones acting in
an official capacity.
The Way Way Back
is ultimately like cotton candy—loosely spun, overly sweet, and messy. But’s
also a treat, one in which one can safely indulge in moderation.
Rob Weir
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