Adventureland
It’s undeniably fitting that in the same month cinema lost its father of the eighties, Breakfast Club and Weird Science maestro John Hughes, the noughties has made a late attempt to find a defining voice for a youth culture saturated in crime, emo music, and diminishing job prospects from that very decade. Now this is intrinsically an examination of American youth culture but we’ve all had crappy summer jobs, insecurities about our futures (still do?), and a case of melancholic, unrequited love, and as such Adventureland has a universal appeal that makes it even more applicable to today’s disillusioned generation, a reminder of what’s important to those too young to know, or care, and a fantastic nostalgia trip for the rest of us.
James Brennan (Eisenberg) has just has his dreams dashed. On the verge of attending an Ivy League school, his plans to travel Europe are scuppered by his parent’s career setback. Forced to take a job at the crummy titular theme park to finance his New York adventure, James falls in love with his sarcastic co-worker Emily (Stewart) and discovers that this ramshackle playground of dated rides and luminescent bulbs contains more ups and downs than the rides he unenthusiastically tenders.
Released at a time traditionally reserved for unmarketable movies or those that have gathered dust on the studio shelves, this deserves neither treatment. Very few films will be as lovingly created as Greg Mottola’s ode to days gone by, and it’s probably a telling indicator as to why this has taken so long to surface that it’s being marketed as a “from the director of Superbad” film and performed disappointingly in the states. This is the antithesis of that vulgar little gem, a sweet coming of age tale orchestrated to a wonderfully eclectic soundtrack. Yes it’s riddled with cliché, but executed properly and this is the result.
Wearing their soon to be cult “GAMES GAMES GAMES” and “RIDES RIDES RIDES” t-shirts, the cast are all fantastic. A blend of indie geek and Hollywood clique, they all embrace the understated nature of the script, and the two respectively compliment eachother.
Eisenberg delivers a hugely likeable performance, no gurning, swearing or pratfalls, its a reminder of a talent thats not been evident since since 2002's excellent Roger Dodger. His laconic delivery of killer lines like "he used to be my best friend, then I turned four" prove that Michael Cera shouldn't be the only one on the casting coach for roles like this.
In fact it’s a tale of two actors, because it mustn’t be forgotten that Kristen Bell is more than just "the girl in that vampire movie with Robert Pattinson". Her Emily is a convincing, strong minded woman, a movie rarity in itself these days, dealing with the every day travails of being a teenage girl. She should be, mistakes included, the type of role model that young girls look up to, not the high heeled character vacuums of Sex and the City.
But this is an ensemble piece and credits are due. Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig use their Saturday Night Live pedigree to bounce off eachother brilliantly as the eccentric owners. Ryan Reynolds plays Ryan Reynolds, but without the arrogant streak thats been essential to his other big-screen outings, he is the villain of the piece, but Mottola never allows things to be that simple. And Freaks and Geeks alumni (are there any more treasures from that little seen show left to unearth?) Martin Starr makes a memorable impression as the goofy co-worker.
Strictly following a recognisable boy-meets-girl template, this still finds time to subvert some of the predictability of similar fare. For example, the "hot girl" that ultimately turns out to be shallow, here is surprisingly nice, and the resolution is honest in its sense of uncertainty.
Unfortunately this will never be more than cult, simply because it fails to conform to the guidelines of successful yet inferior predecessors. Much like the kids in the Breakfast Club it attempts to break the rules, and whilst not succeeding everytime, it remains a funny and extremely sweet fable of youth that Hughes in his pomp would be proud of.
