Being 14, the debut feature from Helene Zimmer, 23 years old when she shot it, has the misfortune of being too similar to other recent, superior films. There’s a bit of Blue Is The Warmest Color, some of Mélanie Laurent’s Respire (Breathe), flashes of Jonathan Gurfinkel’s Six Acts, even some whiffs of We Are The Best! The most obvious comparison is the notorious 1995 indie Kids, but whereas Larry Clark’s picture mostly sustained itself on shock, Being 14 has nobler aspirations. While frank in nature, and obsessed with sexuality, it isn’t overly exploitive. There is no onscreen nudity, and unless there are people who get off on teens yelling at their parents and pouting on the bus, this won’t appeal to the dirty mac brigade. If Zimmer has adequately captured “what it’s really like” to be a suburban 14-year-old girl in France, then what it’s like is to alternate between being aggravated and bored.
So how do you say “frenemies” in French? Sarah (Athalia Routier) is ostensibly our hero, but her choice to shove everyone away doesn’t stop at the screen. She’s hard to like, especially when she decides, almost out of nowhere, to break from her quiet friend Jade (Galatéa Bellugi). Sarah is usually the center of attention – her striking blue eyes and growing beauty make her a natural center of gravity. Strangely, I found myself cataloguing all the other actresses young Routier reminded me of. A little Neve Campbell, or Jena Malone, or Evan Rachel Wood, or even Jodie Foster. There’s something about Sarah’s type that feels really familiar, and Being 14 has enough downtime (staring off into space, moping at a party with colour-saturated lighting) that the movie that springs in your head is equally interesting.
Sarah fights with her mother and stepfather, and Jade has similar problems at her home. (A little less vicious, but still uncomfortable, are the evening meals at Louise’s, a third girl.) Zimmer presents these arguments as such a constant that they lack any sharp specificity. It becomes background; just more yelling you wish would cease, never mind the root cause.
There are a group of local boys that range from merely disgusting to truly barbaric. They rub their hands on their genitals and stick them in Sarah’s face. She’s grossed out but still craves their attention. Party scenes at parent-free homes are thick with tension. With everyone drinking and boasting, there’s the specter of rape every time a boy closes a door. It never comes to that, and when you take a step back, nothing these kids do is ever that terrible. When one of the girls loses her virginity, there’s a condom involved.
The girls’ alliances and animosities ebb and flow: a little Facebook shaming here, some rumour-mongering there. While Zimmer has gone all-in on gritty verisimilitude, I’d be lying if I didn’t say you’ll find a truer depiction of the zeitgeist in the uplifting comedy The Duff. And the kids in Being 14 look like they’re all aching for a laugh, too.
