A few notes about the trailer for "Eighth Grade."
-The "plot" of this preview is slightly deceptive. It presents one of Kayla's YouTube clips as a kind of triumphant reflection on experience--something hard-earned. But that's not what the YouTube clips are. They are delusional statements; they are Kayla play-acting. She hasn't earned the authority she attempts to convey in those clips, which is why they seem (endearingly) hollow and vague. Even though they are failures, we're also meant to love them, because they're the sign of a character fighting to "break the mold," to do something unusual (and even artistic). They are also maybe a self-portrait by Bo Burnham; Burnham himself made YouTube clips when he was in school, and he was even told by one dick-ish Catholic-school official that he ought to stop. ("Stop pursuing my dream? Will do!")
-One of many things I love about "Eighth Grade" is that it identifies an unusual crisis--unusual for movies, at least. That crisis is the *final weeks* of middle school. The middle-school experience is awful enough--but those last weeks? Especially dreadful. Those weeks mean: Getting invited by a half-hearted popular kid to a party where you aren't wanted. They mean: An excruciating Superlatives Ceremony. They mean: A trip to the local high school for orientation--with all its attendant thrills and dangers. Focusing on these two or three inherently dramatic weeks allows Burnham to pack a great deal into a tidy, small, Aristotelian frame. Also, the universal problems Kayla has--social anxiety, loneliness, aimlessness--are especially vexing within the Added Big Problem that is Grade Eight Graduation. Such a smart choice of setting.
-I'm watching "Sharp Objects" right now, and it's clear that Jean-Marc Vallee really sees himself as an anthropologist. Like Nabokov, writing, with amusement, about America in "Lolita," Vallee makes a point of noting strange features of the U.S. landscape. Decrepit businesses, bright flags: The camera lingers over these details. It's clear Bo Burnham sees himself as an anthropologist, as well. One scene destined to become a classic: A band conductor with a rat tail leads the grade-eight symphony in a painful, tuneless rendition of a dull musical standard. You're immediately teleported back to your own eighth-grade music experience. (I'm recalling my conductor, with her stormy presence and her sweaty brow.) A sea of online images, pre-teens transforming their faces into cat-faces, food courts and mall balconies: These things could seem trite, but Burnham, like any good artist, takes familiar landscapes and helps us to see them in a new way.
-To me, the most extraordinary part of "Eighth Grade"--and something only briefly alluded to in the trailer--is the interaction between Kayla and the high schoolers. In the trailer, we see these older kids astonished by the news that Kayla had Snapchat as a fifth grader. This is a typically incisive moment for Burnham: Children will always feign amazement at the lifestyles of still-younger children. ("When I was your age, we walked ten miles in the snow....") But the really astounding part of the high-school sequence--and something I didn't see coming--was the moment when the older teenager tries to seduce Kayla. It's squirmy and breathtaking. There's insidious, suggestive speech: "Look, I took my shirt off. Don't you want to take off yours so I feel less embarrassed?" Brilliantly, Burnham has the predator justify his own behavior, once the plot has been foiled: "I was trying to do you a favor. I was going to help you, so in high school, when someone hooks up with you, you'll know what to do. Now you'll just be humiliated. And that's your fault." We cringe for Kayla--who has had the guts to shut down this transaction, but still feels she must be polite to her assailant. I can't think of many other movie scenes that illustrate, with such concision, precisely how sexual harassment works--so bluntly, so quietly. (And I love that Kayla directs most of her rage at the one person who really seems not to deserve it: her father. This seems accurate, and it's touching.)
-Come on, folks. I know you, out there, have also seen "Eighth Grade." And I imagine you were as smitten as I was. Well? What did you think? Did it bring back memories for you? Did you share my mixed response to the trailer? I'd love to hear!
*P.S. Another thing I admire about this script: How infrequently the characters say what they mean. Kayla wants a cool boy to notice her, so she makes up a story about her great gift for administering blow jobs. Later, a character wants to impress Kayla in a casual way, so he hilariously downplays the pride he feels at having won an award for jousting (or archery, or something along these lines). And Kayla's fabulous line: "Oh, you're charging your phone now? Yeah, I totally do that, too. I mean, sometimes I charge my phone--like you! Oh, everyone is in the kitchen? THAT'S where they are! I've definitely been.....looking for them...." Priceless.
-The "plot" of this preview is slightly deceptive. It presents one of Kayla's YouTube clips as a kind of triumphant reflection on experience--something hard-earned. But that's not what the YouTube clips are. They are delusional statements; they are Kayla play-acting. She hasn't earned the authority she attempts to convey in those clips, which is why they seem (endearingly) hollow and vague. Even though they are failures, we're also meant to love them, because they're the sign of a character fighting to "break the mold," to do something unusual (and even artistic). They are also maybe a self-portrait by Bo Burnham; Burnham himself made YouTube clips when he was in school, and he was even told by one dick-ish Catholic-school official that he ought to stop. ("Stop pursuing my dream? Will do!")
-One of many things I love about "Eighth Grade" is that it identifies an unusual crisis--unusual for movies, at least. That crisis is the *final weeks* of middle school. The middle-school experience is awful enough--but those last weeks? Especially dreadful. Those weeks mean: Getting invited by a half-hearted popular kid to a party where you aren't wanted. They mean: An excruciating Superlatives Ceremony. They mean: A trip to the local high school for orientation--with all its attendant thrills and dangers. Focusing on these two or three inherently dramatic weeks allows Burnham to pack a great deal into a tidy, small, Aristotelian frame. Also, the universal problems Kayla has--social anxiety, loneliness, aimlessness--are especially vexing within the Added Big Problem that is Grade Eight Graduation. Such a smart choice of setting.
-I'm watching "Sharp Objects" right now, and it's clear that Jean-Marc Vallee really sees himself as an anthropologist. Like Nabokov, writing, with amusement, about America in "Lolita," Vallee makes a point of noting strange features of the U.S. landscape. Decrepit businesses, bright flags: The camera lingers over these details. It's clear Bo Burnham sees himself as an anthropologist, as well. One scene destined to become a classic: A band conductor with a rat tail leads the grade-eight symphony in a painful, tuneless rendition of a dull musical standard. You're immediately teleported back to your own eighth-grade music experience. (I'm recalling my conductor, with her stormy presence and her sweaty brow.) A sea of online images, pre-teens transforming their faces into cat-faces, food courts and mall balconies: These things could seem trite, but Burnham, like any good artist, takes familiar landscapes and helps us to see them in a new way.
-To me, the most extraordinary part of "Eighth Grade"--and something only briefly alluded to in the trailer--is the interaction between Kayla and the high schoolers. In the trailer, we see these older kids astonished by the news that Kayla had Snapchat as a fifth grader. This is a typically incisive moment for Burnham: Children will always feign amazement at the lifestyles of still-younger children. ("When I was your age, we walked ten miles in the snow....") But the really astounding part of the high-school sequence--and something I didn't see coming--was the moment when the older teenager tries to seduce Kayla. It's squirmy and breathtaking. There's insidious, suggestive speech: "Look, I took my shirt off. Don't you want to take off yours so I feel less embarrassed?" Brilliantly, Burnham has the predator justify his own behavior, once the plot has been foiled: "I was trying to do you a favor. I was going to help you, so in high school, when someone hooks up with you, you'll know what to do. Now you'll just be humiliated. And that's your fault." We cringe for Kayla--who has had the guts to shut down this transaction, but still feels she must be polite to her assailant. I can't think of many other movie scenes that illustrate, with such concision, precisely how sexual harassment works--so bluntly, so quietly. (And I love that Kayla directs most of her rage at the one person who really seems not to deserve it: her father. This seems accurate, and it's touching.)
-Come on, folks. I know you, out there, have also seen "Eighth Grade." And I imagine you were as smitten as I was. Well? What did you think? Did it bring back memories for you? Did you share my mixed response to the trailer? I'd love to hear!
*P.S. Another thing I admire about this script: How infrequently the characters say what they mean. Kayla wants a cool boy to notice her, so she makes up a story about her great gift for administering blow jobs. Later, a character wants to impress Kayla in a casual way, so he hilariously downplays the pride he feels at having won an award for jousting (or archery, or something along these lines). And Kayla's fabulous line: "Oh, you're charging your phone now? Yeah, I totally do that, too. I mean, sometimes I charge my phone--like you! Oh, everyone is in the kitchen? THAT'S where they are! I've definitely been.....looking for them...." Priceless.
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