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An example of two random seemingly opposite things that popped into my head at different points as I watched the brilliantly moving new film Short Term 12 - the "Prom" episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the absolutely wonderful 2012 film The Wise Kids. Kids, they're both about kids, for one. But mainly, memorably, these are things that appeal towards kindness, towards human connection, and authenticity. They're just at heart about people being good to each other, and genuine, and I never quite realize how thirsty I am for that from my entertainment until something brimming with such spectacular decency comes around and reminds me. So much that we intake is superficial and jaded, skimming over the little places where most of us spend our every day. There's so much richness to be found in these little places... and once you get in there you realize it's not so little, but fits the entire world.
From top to bottom I can't toss enough sterling superlatives at the cast, who never, not one time, hit a false note. I'll admit an anticipatory cringe once I realized that we were about to get a scene where the troubled black teen Marcus was going to express himself through rap, and the movie gently effortlessly backhands me for that reaction - director Destin Cretton zooms in on the raw red edges of Keith Stanfield's deeply wounded eyes as the words spill out and soon enough... well, I was joining in, my tear ducts popping, overripe.
And as real and open, painfully so, as Cretton gets the kids, so too with enormous success does he put on display Brie Larson's ceaselessly expressionist face, which never pushes too hard, but says everything with the most succinct little strokes of character. A lift of an eyelid, the smallest twinge at the corner of her mouth giving way to an almost grin, and then full on - Larson just has a face that I never want to stop looking at, searching, and the Cretton's camera is right there with me, just as in love with the looking.
And he's got love to spare, and spread, and the seeming effortlessness with which he expresses it, it runs buck-wild. As much as I want to keep staring at Larson's face and seeing what she can tell me with just the corners of her mouth, so too I want to keep looking at the world through Cretton's eyes; they thrum with empathy. Toss a flag cape around my shoulders and together we'll all run crazy and carefree and head-long into the arms of the ones waiting there, always right there, who are always ready to run and to dance, to scoop us up and spin us around and to make out of anywhere, and anything, a family, and a home. I want to stay. I want to stay. I want to stay here. It's an ineffable everything that Short Term 12 captures, a perfection that's inexpressible, except here it is, expressed.
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From top to bottom I can't toss enough sterling superlatives at the cast, who never, not one time, hit a false note. I'll admit an anticipatory cringe once I realized that we were about to get a scene where the troubled black teen Marcus was going to express himself through rap, and the movie gently effortlessly backhands me for that reaction - director Destin Cretton zooms in on the raw red edges of Keith Stanfield's deeply wounded eyes as the words spill out and soon enough... well, I was joining in, my tear ducts popping, overripe.
And he's got love to spare, and spread, and the seeming effortlessness with which he expresses it, it runs buck-wild. As much as I want to keep staring at Larson's face and seeing what she can tell me with just the corners of her mouth, so too I want to keep looking at the world through Cretton's eyes; they thrum with empathy. Toss a flag cape around my shoulders and together we'll all run crazy and carefree and head-long into the arms of the ones waiting there, always right there, who are always ready to run and to dance, to scoop us up and spin us around and to make out of anywhere, and anything, a family, and a home. I want to stay. I want to stay. I want to stay here. It's an ineffable everything that Short Term 12 captures, a perfection that's inexpressible, except here it is, expressed.
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