Directors often command attention for their project through expensive special effects, complicated stories or frantic visual styling. More often than not, this moviemaking bravado is either a sign that the person at the wheel doesn't know how to steer the cinematic ship or that the vessel is being cleverly guided so that massive dark shadows cover over the harsh glare of the project's weaknesses.
Eliza Hittman hasn't used that approach with either of her major film productions. Just as she did with "It Felt Like Love" in 2013, the writer-director of the dreamlike "Beach Rats" shows that she doesn't need manipulation or distractions. Her style is to strip away anything that doesn't support the truth of her characters, whether that be unnecessary lines of dialogue or traditional lighting. There's a brutality and vulgarity to this approach that Hittman uses to her advantage.
All Hittman does is set up a basic situation, follow it through a natural evolution and then respect the audience enough to avoid serving up some trite life lesson just before the final credits role. "Beach Rats" is presented in such a no-frills way that there are more moments than not when it feels like it has slipped into full documentary mode.
The effect is a purity that lures the viewer into quietly agreeing to watch.
Hittman's story revolves around Frankie (Harris Dickinson), a teenager from the Brooklyn area who's void of any signs of ambition. He's trying to figure out questions about his sexual preferences, a task complicated by a mother (Kate Hodge) who waivers between being clingy and being oblivious to her son's actions. Either she's living in a massive cocoon of denial or her caring is just an obligatory action because Frankie goes unchecked as he steals medication from his father who has cancer.
Also drawing life energy for Frankie is his small group of friends who live just a few grunts above primitive man. Their day is no more complicated than a mix of playing handball, partying and getting high.
Frankie finds himself drifting through online sites in hopes of connecting with older men. Even his excuse for not trying to meet someone his own age resonates with self-doubts as Frankie says that "older men are less likely to know the same people I know."
Hittman slowly unfolds this part of Frankie's life while casually weaving in his attraction to Simone (Madeline Weinstein), a sexually aggressive party girl who has to battle with the attraction and rejection Frankie shows her. Weinstein's driving sexuality and guarded innocence echoes Susan Sarandon's performance in "Atlantic City."
The family elements, friendships and sexual explorations are never rushed. Hittman shows a creative willingness to allow a scene to unfold rather than explode and that always opens up the potential to see all of the layers in a scene. Seeing it does get a little tough as Hittman almost exclusively uses natural light even in the darkest of moments.
One scene that shows the director's patience has the best friends casually walking through the park to the handball court where Frankie spots his younger sister holding hands with a boy. As part of the big picture, it's a moment that either would be ignored or at least looked at for its budding young love beauty. Hittman directs Dickinson to reflect on the moment with a look that is part jealousy and part anger as his younger sister has found the emotional link that has eluded Frankie on so many levels.
That's not the only scene where Dickinson plays the moment in such a pure manner that it doesn't look like he's acting. Reaching that performance nexus is something some seasoned actors never find, but through Hittman's guidance, Dickinson goes from playing Frankie to being Frankie.
Hittman's work is unconfined but controlled to the point that there are moments when the film slips into a passiveness where neither the story nor the characters seem to grow.
Those are the moments where Hittman shows that the conventional just doesn't work for her projects. She could have loaded up those scenes with elements that command attention, but watching her movie is like being in a hotel room with paper-thin walls. Try as we might, even when there are quiet moments, there's no way to turn away from what can be heard in the next room.
The director's work isn't for those who only appreciate those who make movies by the rules. It's for those willing to share an experience and not have to be rushed to see it unfold.
