Review: Mid90s

A universal coming of age story set during the titular time period, Mid90s marks an auspicious directorial debut for actor Jonah Hill, who also wrote and co-produced the film.

Set over the course of several months, the film focuses on thirteen-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic), first seen slamming into a wall before taking more punches from his older brother, the fitness-obsessed and highly aggressive Ian (Lucas Hedges, displaying an impressively hard edge that's in stark contrast from his performances in Manchester By the Sea and Lady Bird). They live with their single mother Dabney (Katherine Waterston), who had Ian when she was 18 and has no compunction about discussing her love life with her sons, of whose inner and outer lives she seems wholly unaware.

Searching for somewhere to belong or somewhere to escape to, Stevie becomes taken with a quartet of older boys, whose lives revolve around skateboarding. The youngest of the group and by far the least appreciated, Ruben (Gio Galicia), seeing a chance to flex some power, takes him somewhat under his wing. Dropping advice like not saying thank you to people because it might make him seem guy, he brags to Stevie that he should look up to him because "I'm living the life." Stevie is just happy to be in the group's company; the unabashed gratitude he displays at being asked to fetch some water is both endearing and slightly worrisome. It's clear there's trouble ahead - Stevie tries drugs, alcohol, and even has his first sexual experience during his time with them - but there are also fun times to be had, merely shooting the breeze and skateboarding around the city.

Whilst the film derives much of its pleasure and power from merely letting the boys be - Hill captures people just being with unforced clarity - Mid90s also acknowledges that this is a pivotal time not only for Stevie but for the group itself. People are changing, about to move on and grow up, and that is most evident in the slowly fraying friendship between the two older members, Ray (Na-kel Smith, a genuine find) and Fuckshit (Olan Prenatt). Ray is the wisest and most mature of the group and arguably the coolest since he needs no nickname. His skateboarding skills are good enough for him to be on the professional circuit, and he worries that his childhood friend would rather be partying and wasting his life away. The fourth member of the group, Fourth Grade (Ryder McLaughlin), so dubbed because of his intellect, is a quiet sort who is never without his cheap camcorder.

Mid90s doesn't really indulge in conventional narrative moments but, when it does, it is as insightful and piercing as when it takes the observational and freewheeling approach. A scene between Stevie and Ray is the arguable emotional peak. We feel our lives may be the worst most of the time, Ray notes, but we wouldn't trade them if we took the time to look at others' lives. Why do you think no one ever wants to go home? he asks Stevie, and reveals that Fourth Grade is so poor as to be homeless and Ruben and his sister are abused at home. The dynamic between Ruben and Stevie is also grounds for some intrigue as the former is frustrated and furious at the respect and admiration Stevie earns from the group in so short a time. To be fair, it was after Stevie practically killed himself doing a stunt, but still.

The film is imbued with an authenticity that firmly grounds it in its specific milieu, but there's an emotional authenticity as well not only in Hill's screenplay and direction but particularly in Suljic's portrayal, which one could rightly compare to Jean-Pierre Léaud's iconic turn as Antoine Doinel in François Truffaut's The 400 Blows, of which Mid90s is a spiritual descendant. Suljic and Hill convey the moment when a boy is on the verge of falling from the relative safety of boyhood into the dangerous abyss of manhood with delicate but unflinching honesty.

Mid90s

Directed by: Jonah Hill

Written by: Jonah Hill

Starring: Sunny Suljic, Lucas Hedges, Katherine Waterston, Na-kel Smith, Olan Prenatt, Gio Galicia, Ryder McLaughlin, Alexa Demie