Films about teenagers exploring existential truths while floating between the lines of society of sanity can go one of two ways. Either they’re nostalgic romps reminding all of us how emotionally confusing that time can be or they’re the clichéd sewage of a writer saying everything they wish they had the wherewithal to say back then but couldn’t articulate until ten years later. The former view of those formative years actually holds water, because any teenager claiming to have all the answers by age 18 is just a deluded kid whose every trite, overly self-aware word doesn’t actually exist. Those teenagers are fictional. It’s one thing to have them say those things, it’s another for them to understand the gravity of what it all means. The Art of Getting By insists on giving the audience one of those know-it-all teenagers, letting him dig his own grave which by any rational account he would then be unable to get out of, only to let him walk away. Director and writer Gavin Wiesen bought into his own lie about teenage awareness and let himself get carried away and letting his protagonist become an unbearable character who never gets what he truly deserves: nothing.
George has coasted through high school without doing a single piece of work because his teachers think he’s a bright student with plenty of potential. Apparently that means he can make it four years without doing anything and not flunking out. Reality check #1. Then he connects with a girl (Emma Roberts) who finds his ego-based existential despair and fatalism interesting, so she invites him into the private parts of her life only to be surprised when (shocker) the existential despair and fatalism carry over into their would-be relationship and he proves unable to connect on any significant level. Reality check #2. With both his romantic and academic futures in jeopardy, he’s given a last chance in both, neither of which he deserves based on his attitude or demonstrated ability. With three weeks left to graduation, his professor gives him the option to complete all of the work he didn’t do so he can still matriculate, with no special treatment. His teachers then proceed to give him special treatment, because hey, he seems to have lots of potential. Reality check #3.
Neither George nor Freddie Highmore deserve the benefit of the doubt when it comes to supposed potential. Highmore mugs his way through every scene, seemingly incapable of figuring out an appropriate emotional response to what the script says is happening. Of course, even the script is horrendously sloppy with all the clichéd dialogue a human being can tolerate crammed into an 83-minute runtime. The Art of Getting By isn’t a good teenage film, not by a longshot. If you’re looking for an inspirational teenage film about a disillusioned teenager, try Charlie Bartlett. The cast and writing are a thousand times better, and though it breaks from reality a few times itself, it’s never in such a way that leaves you hating a protagonist the writer thinks you should love. Wiesen really missed the mark here, and Highmore’s performance only makes it worse.
This one should be avoided by all.
Blu-ray Bonus Features
Just like the film itself, the featurettes are of a mindset which anyone who’s actually seen the film will find odd: they’re proud of what they’ve created here. So proud and so satisfied with Highmore’s abysmal performance that they’ve given us an “In character” interview session with Highmore. Also featured is an audio commentary with writer/director Wiesen relating exactly why he thinks the film works, and it’s pretty clear his idea of what teenagers are like is different from the rest of the world’s experience. Featurette’s on the making of the film, its New York locations, and the pitfalls of young romance round out the disc. All in all, the experience is rather baffling. It’s like they didn’t watch the same film that was on the disc.
"The Art of Getting By" is on sale November 29, 2011 and is rated PG13. Drama. Written and directed by Gavin Wiesen. Starring Alicia Silverstone, Emma Roberts, Freddie Highmore, Michael Angarano, Elizabeth Reaser.
