KICKING AND SCREAMING: Transitional malaise

Rating: 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺
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Despite my best attempts at feigning some semblance of elevated cinematic taste and discretion, I’m admittedly a sucker for a rather niche and seemingly low brow genre: the developmentally arrested slacker dramedy. Perhaps my affinity for these types of movies says something about me, but films like Clerks or The World’s End strike a chord with me as I watch characters endlessly drone about the mundane issues of daily life or chase a distantly fading past in the hopes of recapturing a fleeting feeling of nostalgic warmth. Noah Baumbach’s (Frances Ha, The Squid and the Whale) 1995 directorial debut Kicking and Screaming perfectly nails the post-collegiate transition into adulthood, and like the title implies, how we ultimately are dragged into it whether we want to or not.

The film centers around Grover (Josh Hamilton) as he is dumped by his girlfriend Jane (Olivia d’abi) on the night of graduation because she plans to study in Prague but Grover has no interest in going with her. Brokenhearted and directionless, he crashes in the home of his friends Max (Chris Eigeman), Otis (Carlos Jacott), and Skippy (Jason Wiles). The quartet attempt to navigate the strange wasteland of adulthood through a series of intertwining vignettes.

Baumbach’s distinction as a filmmaker has always been his keen sense of dialogue. Each member of the group has a distinct personality and dynamic they bring to their conversations. Grover is the depressed romantic. Max is the snarky cynic. Otis and Skippy are the anxious and oblivious dopes, respectively. Despite being radically different in outlooks on life, they are bonded by their abject refusal to accept change and oscillate between attempts to recapture their college glory (hooking up with college freshmen) and finding un-glamorous gigs in lieu of long-term paths forward (working as a video store clerk).

In many ways, Kicking and Screaming is the quintessential ’90s movie, capturing so many of the attitudes and trends of the era. The cynicism, directionless, and indulgent references to pop culture of the past are often derided as lazy and hollow, but here there’s a real sense of purpose to these seemingly cliché choices. After all, it’s a film about the anxieties of not knowing what your next step in life is. Why not drown out these worries in inane drinking games where you try to name all the Friday the 13th movies?

The film never celebrates its characters’ avoidance of responsibility, but rather observes it passively. This is reflected in Baumbach’s direction, avoiding minimal camera movement or flashy editing in favor of largely static setups. The focus is on the conversations between the characters so most of the film is shot with simple shot reverse shot set ups. Outside of a few circular tracking shots during group conversations, the film largely retains this aesthetic.

Grover is the central character, but the real standout is Max, arguably the most profound character in the whole film. While his frequently prickly personality irks his friends and those who cross his path, there’s a palpable sense of self-loathing to the character, a privileged rich kid who views his upbringing as a hindrance to his personal development of self rather than a boon. Props also go to Eric Stoltz as Chet, the bartender and 10-year super senior at the university who serves as the characters’ shepherd during the film, extolling sage advice all while being pushed away as an ambitionless bum. It’s only in the film’s cathartic climax do we realize that he’s the only character who has found a sense of acceptance with life, despite all appearances to the contrary.

Kicking and Screaming is the kind of movie that feels like both a warm blanket and ice cold-shower at the same time, providing a sense of relatable familiarity while also giving a hard kick in the pants to get moving and accept that things have changed. It’s the kind of cinematic dichotomy that’s very difficult to pull off, yet it somehow does. It’s life affirming in the best way yet also a firm reminder to get your shit together.