Richard Linklater’s latest cinematic endeavor, Boyhood, is billed as a coming of age drama, but largely manages to transcend the minefield of clichés that plague that genre. While it has received much buzz for the unique nature of its production – it was filmed for a few days a year, over the course of twelve years – its true value, in my opinion, lies in its emotional nuances. I would argue that Boyhood is less a movie about a boy growing up than it is about life itself, the tides of change it brings, and how we all do our best to navigate them.
While I am not 100 percent sure that the film merits all of the praise that has been heaped upon it, it is certainly an epic cinematic achievment, even if due only to the time and effort channeled into its production. The result of such a unique approach is captivating, as audiences literally have the chance to watch a family age over time. Despite the revolutionary cinematic approach, however, the writing and acting are merely good – not great. While Patricia Arquette and Ethan Hawke both give impressive and moving performances, I was underwhelmed by Ellar Coltrane, the “boy” himself and star of the film. In my opinion, Arquette and Hawke bravely set aside all vanity, and let themselves visibly age and mature on-camera, as Coltrane, in contrast, devolves from a heartbreakingly cute little boy into an angsty, artsy teenager.
Coltrane’s transitions from year-to-year come across as nearly seamless during the film, and each segment is complete with a soundtrack from the year that it was filmed. Watching it, I felt oddly as though I were in a time warp; hearing “Yellow,” by Coldplay, seeing a character wear the same Abercrombie shirt I owned in middle school, noticing Obama ’08 signs displayed in front yards. I loved and appreciated this aspect of the film; in a way, I think that it will serve as a cultural time capsule for the millennial generation.
Another special aspect of the film is the inescapable sense that you, as a viewer, are simply “watching life happen,” as one friend of mine put it. Plot-wise, there is no dramatic, overarching story. Rather, Boyhood is a chronicle of a family, and the simple struggles they experience – that we all experience. Coltrane’s character, Mason, could be a surrogate for any boy, or really, any person: through the lens of his life, Linklater explores larger themes of finding meaning.
The most profound scene of the film, for me, was also the most poignant. As Mason is about to depart for college, at the end of the movie, his mother (Arquette), suddenly and uncharacteristically begins to cry. “You know what I’m realizing?” she asks. “My life is just going to go. Like that. This series of milestones. Getting married. Having kids. Getting divorced. The time that we thought you were dyslexic. When I taught you how to ride a bike. Getting divorced… again. Getting my masters degree. Finally getting the job I wanted. Sending Samantha off to college. Sending you off to college. You know what’s next? Huh? It’s my fucking funeral!”
Finally, with a disappointed resignation, she simply says, “I just thought there would be more.”
That is the line that stayed with me long after I left the theater. More what? More to life? As a second semester senior, something about that idea resonated with me. Looking back as my college years draw to a close, it seems like they were over in a flash. Maybe the more you try to find something to remember and hold onto, I thought, the more quickly the experience slips away.
Just like life, Boyhood is an experience. It is sad at times and joyful at others, but the constant throughout is the change that the characters experience. More than the impressive 12 years of filmmaking, and more than the prestigious award season nominations, what I will remember most are the stirring emotions of watching life unfold, and ultimately reflecting on my own.