Me and Earl and the Dying Girl
Directed by: Alfonso Gomez-Rejon
Written by: Jesse Andrews
Starring: Thomas Mann, Olivia Cooke, RJ Cyler, Nick Offerman, Molly Shannon, Jon Bernthal, Connie Britton, Matt Bennett, Katherine Hughes, Masam Holden, Bobb'e J. Thompson
Drama - 105 min Reviewed by Charlie Juhl on 19 May 2015
Written by: Jesse Andrews
Starring: Thomas Mann, Olivia Cooke, RJ Cyler, Nick Offerman, Molly Shannon, Jon Bernthal, Connie Britton, Matt Bennett, Katherine Hughes, Masam Holden, Bobb'e J. Thompson
Drama - 105 min Reviewed by Charlie Juhl on 19 May 2015
Veering away from the canned formula of ‘teenager has cancer’ movie, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is not about the girl; it’s about a boy who kind of knows her. This quirky, indie tale is also not a budding romance cut short nor an over sentimental tearjerker exploiting your sympathy glands. It’s funny, and at times, the movie about a 17 year old with leukemia is downright hysterical. The winner of the Sundance Film Festival’s top two awards, voted best film by both judges and audience alike, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is a bit too cute by half, yet still an enjoyable and refreshing break away from smarmy rubbish like The Fault in Our Stars.
High school senior Greg (Thomas Mann, 2013’s Beautiful Creatures) narrates his own story in flashback; it’s up to the audience how objective we find what he has to say. Nervously pacing around his bedroom full of angst, Greg wonders how he can even begin. Greg is a high school outcast by choice. He cleverly navigates his way between the routine identifiable groups like the jocks and the stoners all the way down to sub-groups including the Jewish girl clique and the lone white rapper. Accepted at the fringes of all groups yet technically part of none, Greg bobs and weaves his way through the hallways and the dreaded cafeteria avoiding any and all eye contact seeking the safety of the office of the school’s hip history teacher (Jon Bernthal, 2014’s Fury).
High school senior Greg (Thomas Mann, 2013’s Beautiful Creatures) narrates his own story in flashback; it’s up to the audience how objective we find what he has to say. Nervously pacing around his bedroom full of angst, Greg wonders how he can even begin. Greg is a high school outcast by choice. He cleverly navigates his way between the routine identifiable groups like the jocks and the stoners all the way down to sub-groups including the Jewish girl clique and the lone white rapper. Accepted at the fringes of all groups yet technically part of none, Greg bobs and weaves his way through the hallways and the dreaded cafeteria avoiding any and all eye contact seeking the safety of the office of the school’s hip history teacher (Jon Bernthal, 2014’s Fury).
Greg and his best friend Earl (RJ Cyler), whom he refers to as his co-worker, spend their lunches absorbing Werner Herzog and the other required peculiar pantheon of filmheads. In their off hours away from school, Greg and Earl create their own Criterion Collection knock-offs such as “A Sockwork Orange,” “Death in Tennis,” and “2:58pm Cowboy”. Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon assumes we can figure out on our own which title mocks which film classic. During a few hilarious montages, we watch the boys’ quick filmography and pat ourselves on our collective backs with how many titles we figure out.
I have not forgotten the third part of the film’s title, The Dying Girl. Greg’s mom (Connie Britton) forces him to leave the house and spend time with Rachel (Olivia Cooke) who was just diagnosed with leukemia. Horrified Greg wants nothing to do with a sick girl he barely knows and Rachel certainly does not desire Greg’s reluctant attention. Here is where writer Jesse Andrews, adapting the screenplay from his own novel, shines different. In Hollywood formulaic hands, these two high schoolers would engage in 90 minutes worth of ‘will they or won’t they’ awkward near kisses and fumbles.
There is no meet cute between Greg and Rachel; no tumbling textbooks in the hallway as their eyes meet in slow motion. Their formal intro is forced and awkward as are most intros when you’re 17. Greg merely labeled Rachel as one of the girls in Jewish girl group number two. Sarcasm and bad jokes are Greg’s best friends as he and Rachel choppily hit it off and eventually look forward to their daily visits. Throttle back there those of you yearning for puppy dog eyes and first dates. We’re not here for love. We’re here for a reality check.
Shuffling around downstairs with an always more than half full white wine glass, Rachel’s mom (Molly Shannon, 2011’s Bad Teacher) can only smile and praise Greg’s fortitude lest she break down into a puddle of tears and sobs omnipresently lurking around every other word. Greg’s dad (Nick Offerman, 2014’s 22 Jump Street) isn’t around to issue sage wisdom either. Floating around the house in his bathrobe and always with a plate of a borderline noxious food, he plays stone-faced comic relief whenever Greg runs into any emotions too heavy to handle. Extending a plate and muttering just the words “pig feet” does wonders to snap the tension and bring us back into the comedy side of dramedy.
Shot with a camera on speed as it spins round the room and turns sideways on the street, cinematographer Chung-hoon Chung broke free of his stoic and creepy camera work he employed in 2013’s Stoker. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl seems destined to follow in the footsteps of Little Miss Sunshine as the little indie that could as it attracts momentum from mainstream audiences toward awards season. However, I mostly remember the quirk, the one-dimensional supporting characters, and the sobering ending which finally gets round to attacking the tear ducts you thought were safe. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is a breath of fresh air in the sick teenager genre, but it didn’t break all of the chains.
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