The Diary of a Teenage Girl (2015)

2015
Writer/Director: Marielle Heller

The thing I love most about cinema is how it can so completely immerse you and engulf you in the lives and emotions and experiences of characters who may not be at all relatable or similar to you, and it does this to an extent that few other art forms can achieve so readily. This was how I felt leaving The Diary of a Teenage Girl, a seriously excellent exploration of the life of a 15 year old girl that just feels so believable and engrossing, I was surprised just how into it I got.

Bel Powley fearlessly and convincingly plays Minnie Goetze, a normal schoolgirl living in a wood-panelled townhouse in 1970s San Francisco with her bohemian mother (Kristen Wiig), and who is beginning to explore the emergence of her sexual feelings and desires. She often laments how no one loves her the way she wishes they would, and frequently feels insecure about her body. The camera frequently focuses intently on her roundish face and big expressive eyes which often makes her look even younger than she is, as she wrestles with the conflicting feelings she experiences as a girl wanting to explore her sexuality and wanting to feel secure. Her thoughts are expressed via her intimate voiceover or when she talks to her cassette audio-diary. Despite her self-doubts, she’s beginning to get more desiring attention from boys, not least her mother’s 30-something year old boyfriend Monroe (Alexander Skarsgard). He’s tall, handsome, more than a little goofy, and takes her seriously as a grown woman and an object of desire – it’s no wonder she’s drawn to him, and they begin having sex regularly.

The basis of the story is Minnie’s discovery of herself, and her struggles to realise what she wants. What does come clearly to her is that she enjoys sex, she feels entitled to it, and she’d like to keep having it. Like many teenagers, her messy period of self-discovery leads to lots of conflicted feelings and regretful mistakes. The film never shies away from expressing the enormity of her emotions and the sometimes awkward consequences they entail. From the onscreen animations which visualise both her innermost thoughts (similarly to the few episodes of My Mad Fat Diary I have seen, which equally creates a fantastic insight into a highly developed character) as well as effectively displaying her certainty of wanting to be a cartoonist, to the hyperbole of her language, the film does an incredible job of portraying a character who is at once confidently mature and plainly naïve, who is both in control and easily swayed. I loved the complexity of her relationship with Monroe and the fickleness of her feelings, going from pure lust to begrudging affection, as well her inability to fully understand Monroe’s (often selfish) intentions, let alone her own (sometimes selfish) intentions.

What I admired was how the film shows that all the major characters, no matter their age or experience, similarly often struggle to comprehend the complex interplay of their emotional and sexual feelings. We hear Minnie articulate her doubts about whether her feelings and relationships are healthy or normal, but we realise too that Monroe, who is 35, sees the potential problems with their meetings, yet cannot resist going back to her and is strung along by her as much as he leads her astray (a scene with Monroe having a bad drug trip seemingly confirms the repression of his own self-doubts, as he hallucinates dangerous people are watching him). Even Minnie’s mother, who exudes self-confidence, is drawn to reckless behaviour, seemingly because she still hasn’t learnt that she doesn’t have to depend on getting other people to love her in order to love herself.

At certain points, Minnie is referred to as a ‘slut’ or a ‘nympho’. One boy becomes intimidated by the intensity of her sexuality. Yet admirably, the film never judges or trivialises her actions, nor exploits the potentially taboo nature of her sexuality. Instead, it offers an amazingly immersive study of a character in transition, one who is learning and who has no qualms in seeking what makes her happy. It achieves this through striking a fine tone – the film is often very funny, and addresses the issues in Minnie’s life in a clear unbiased way that makes her thoughts and actions feel truthful. I also loved the little moments and sensations that makes this story so believable – the little buzz you get when someone touches your skin, the heady thrill of drug-taking, even those uncontrollable moments when just the smallest things make your emotions explode, like when hearing stern words from Monroe leaves Minnie sobbing on the floor, or her times with her friend Kimmie (Madeleine Waters) where they dance and scream because they feel like it. I especially loved a scene where Minnie and Monroe lie in bed together, having agreed to talk seriously about what’s going on, until the feeling of their bodies touching can’t help but make them want to touch and grope one another – the camera watches their faces from the side as they lie, the little gestures in their faces and eyes the other can’t see that really shows the mad rush of uncontrollable thoughts they’re having.

The Diary of a Teenage Girl is a seriously excellent movie that often left me smiling through whole scenes at both the witticisms of the dialogue and the charming authenticity of so many of the scenarios, even when some of them become recognisably uncomfortable in their explicitness or relatability. The soundtrack is pretty kick-ass too. Admittedly, I found the animated sequences at times a little distracting, and there are some moments which ring a little overly-contrived, but these are minor quibbles. Kudos to writer/director Marielle Heller, for taking what could have been a potentially exploitative premise, and instead creating a warm, beautifully made film that embraces moral complexity of real life, a film “for all the girls when they have grown”.

Two more points before I finish here: first, this is the fourth new film I’ve seen this year that has been directed by a woman, after Selma (Ana DuVernay), The Falling (Carol Morley) and A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (Ana Lily Amirpour) (I missed out on seeing Girlhood (Céline Sciamma) which I really wanted to see). Whilst this doesn’t sound substantial, it’s still the most I’ve ever seen at the cinema, and all were bold admirable films with strong visions. It’s definitely worth noting how many more films by great female filmmakers are getting more substantial mainstream coverage and recognition, and this is all fine progress towards making our cinema output even more wonderfully diverse. The Diary of a Teenage Girl definitely and faithfully presents a distinctly feminine approach to character which makes the film all the more remarkable for it.

Second, to my own recollection, this has actually been the third new film I’ve seen this year that has prominently featured a female protagonist embracing their sexuality, after It Follows (David Robert Mitchell) and White Bird in a Blizzard (Gregg Araki) (The Duke of Burgundy (Peter Strickland) is also noteworthy for its unflinching portrayal of female sexuality, although I’m talking more about teenage characters here). I have to admit I was actually pretty disappointed with It Follows – I guess the hype may have raised expectations too high. But I did admire its pitch-perfect tone and its thoughtful and innovative approach in revisiting classic horror tropes, not least in reconsidering the figure of the Final Girl by making the lead (Maika Monroe) a girl who is threatened because she has had sex but one who is never ashamed of what she has done and one who the film doesn’t seem to judge.

On the other hand, I couldn’t understand the generally negative response critics had to White Bird, a film which is undeniably Araki’s safest, most conventional film but one which I was genuinely fond of. Araki’s ear for believable and funny teenage dialogue is spot-on, the story is engaging on the level of both character and plotting, and Shailene Woodley gives a fantastic performance as a girl discovering her sexuality whilst dealing with the confusing issues of her missing mother and her sense of self.

I couldn’t help noticing this trend in all three films and am hopeful that this is a sign more films and more creative directors are happy to not shy away from a fact that many aspects of society choose to ignore – that women of all ages can enjoy sex and can instigate encounters and be aware of their desires as much as men. I can’t help getting annoyed reading comments under the White Bird trailer where lots of people describe Woodley as a slut, and do wish viewers can really engage with films and realise that characters can reflect an amazing range of traits and features which often fall outside accepted notions of behaviour.

What does intrigue me about all these films is that they all have a period setting (White Bird is set in the late 1980s; It Follows is ambiguous in its setting but proudly embraces homages to 1970s design alongside contemporary features). Is it somehow safer for films to depict content like this if it places it in a bygone era where different attitudes can be more comfortably explored? Or am I reading too much into this? Are there other films which do depict teenage femininity non-judgementally in a contemporary setting which I’m not thinking of? Do tell me if you have any ideas!

A Sense8-tional review (if I do say so myself)

The world generally hasn’t been so kind to the Wachowskis as of late. 2012’s Cloud Atlas received some bitterly polarised reviews, with some general praise but plenty of harsh vitriol. This year’s Jupiter Ascending fared even worse, being near enough tore apart from by most critics. I haven’t seen Jupiter Ascending yet, but seeing the trailer and reading reviews, it seems a complete mess with some laughably bizarre and incomprehensible scenarios and a hilariously campy-looking performance by Eddie Redmayne – I’m actually quite looking forward to seeing it!

Cloud Atlas has gone on to become on the films from the last few years which I’ve become quite fond of. Upon first viewing, I’d enjoyed it and kept up with the sprawling plotlines, but felt a little underwhelmed with the sum of the all the parts, each separate story feeling a little lacking and building to no greater individual or overall meaning other than the idea that humanity and human life is interconnected. However, in the days after, I found I couldn’t stop thinking about it and could recall many scenes which had thrilled me or moved me. Watching it again a few months later, it was a much better film. A complex and challenging piece of epic spectacle which works hard to bear forth its very warm and human heart, it’s also a film which neatly merges indie and blockbuster sensibilities in a mixture of genuine ambition and originality with the budget and scale of something far more mainstream. The issues of pacing and underdevelopment still stand, but the film is never boring, seriously engaging, and should stand as an example of the ambitious blockbusters studios could and really should be making.

This rather wordy introduction brings us on to Sense8, the Wachowskis’ first foray into television, and a show that shares a lot of thematic ideas and concepts with Cloud Atlas. First off, I have to point out about it being on Netflix, which has already rapidly changed the way we define TV, not just simply because I haven’t watched any of their shows on an actual TV set. Netflix follows the model of greater creative freedom offered by advertising-free cable subscription services, but goes even further in offering programme-makers additional space for seasons of varied lengths, episodes of different lengths for the needs of different storylines and simple faith in allowing them to make near-enough whatever they want. All the shows I’ve seen so far (House of Cards, Daredevil, BoJack Horseman, Orange is the New Black) have benefited from this model and have created genuine cultural impacts beyond what most TV shows can muster. From what I’ve seen online, Sense8 hasn’t achieved anywhere near the heights of popularity as most of these shows, but it’s a show that has clearly taken advantage of Netflix’s freedoms to produce something which is, in a televisual sense, unlike anything that’s ever been made before.

Sense8 follows eight separate characters who are all suddenly mentally and emotionally linked. Will (Brian J. Smith), a Chicago cop struggling with father issues and haunted by an unsolved past case; Sun (Doona Bae), a Korean businesswoman supressed in her family’s male-dominated company who moonlights as an underground kickboxing star; Capheus (Aml Ameen), a Kenyan bus driver with an obsession for Jean Claude Van Damme movies who is working hard to look after his AIDS-afflicted mother; Riley (Tuppence Middleton), an Icelandic DJ living in London who gets caught up with dangerous people; Wolfgang (Max Riemelt), a German criminal plagued by the legacy of his late father; Nomi (Jamie Clayton), a trans woman and hacker living in San Francisco with her girlfriend; Lito (Miguel Angel Silvestre), a Mexican action movie star who is closeted and living secretly with his boyfriend and Kala (Tina Desai), a Mumbai-based pharmacist and devout Hindu engaged to a man she doesn’t love.

Viewers of Game of Thrones will be aware that television offers bountiful potential for shows stuffed with multiple plotlines, and it’s understandable why the programme-makers favoured this greater space for the density that is Sense8. The problem with this model, and the sheer freedom that has been offered to them, is that it takes a great deal of worldbuilding before it can really kick into gear. It’s not to say that the first few parts were ever boring, more that each took its sweet time introducing us necessarily to each character, alongside charming and quirky little details to try to situate each of them uniquely, like Capheus’s rivalry with another movie-themed bus service. Bear with it – it pays off to be patient with this show. Some plotlines pick up quicker than others, while some throw some bursts of action to keep things interesting. Similarly to Game of Thrones though, some character arcs can’t help but feel more unsubstantial and unengaging than others, especially when what is at stake for each of them can be drastically different. Wolfgang’s attempts to break into a safe, or Will’s adventures in a fairly generic police procedural setting dealing with gang warfare just stand out beyond Kala’s emotional meandering or Lito’s fears of being outed and his worry he won’t be considered for the action movie roles he likes. Sure, Rupert Everett says he had a harder time coming out, but come on! If Sense8 is to be believed, Lito has an uncanny ability to make women fawn over him helplessly, which is regularly declared as the sign of a good actor.

The biggest threat facing our heroes, the sensates, is a shady organisation hunting down others of their kind, led by a suave individual nicknamed Whispers (Terrence Mann). Why they’re so set on trapping these people, especially considering Whispers is another sensate, is… well, it’s never really explained; I suppose that’s something being left for season 2 (co-creator J. Michael Straczynski said there are hopes for up to five seasons). It’s Nomi who first encounters the organisation and as such, it instantly makes her storyline grip and standout, especially in the earlier episodes before things really pick up for the others.

Reading this back, this all comes across a lot more negative than I’m intending it to. Sure Sense8 has its flaws, but they don’t detract from many of the aspects that this show succeeds in, a lot of which to me seem pretty unique for television. First of all, its scale is genuinely impressive, with a team of directors including regular collaborators Tom Tykwer (Run Lola Run, Perfume) James McTeigue (V for Vendetta) and Dan Glass splitting directing duties across countries. None of them have lost their keen eye for constructing great action scenes, of which there are plenty in a range of cool contexts and unlike any really ever seen on TV before.

The programme-makers have to be commended for their choice to use this platform as a means to explore a range of personal themes which are often sidelined in more mainstream fare, including attitudes to fluidity in gender and sexuality, religious fundamentalism and differing politics of identity around the world. I’ve seen complaints online that the show is nothing more than homosexual propaganda, that it is an attempt to shove gender politics down collective throats. Whilst some aspects are highlighted more than the plot needs them to be, I still find it pretty remarkable that a now-major network is happy to give space to a show which preaches tolerance and respect of difference, and one which doesn’t shy away from issues such as character reactions to Nomi’s gender, or undercurrents of misogyny in business, here in Korea.

The interactions between the sensates provide some of the most affecting moments of this show, and the show uses some pretty novel approaches to visualise their linkages, such as shared conversations split between two locations neatly edited together (although this does lead on to one pet-peeve I have with films which this show commits which bothered me a bit, namely I hate it when foreign characters in films speak English rather than their own languages. Okay, English was needed here logically for the interactions to make sense across borders, but when whole scenes in Germany are done with characters speaking English, that does irritate me a bit. Alright, rant over now).

I felt characters were nicely developed, with some going on story arcs and having touching moments which I remember well, such as Kala’s childhood memory of seeing a vast religious procession through the eyes of a giant Ganesh float as her realisation of the importance of religion and of the beauty in the world. Later scenes where the sensates finally get to come together and help each other out in a big way also stick out – a chase scene where Nomi escapes from the police being a standout and being the closest the show gets to the setpiece standouts of the Wachowskis’ films. That said, at times in these bits, it can’t help feeling like characters often get reduced to their most prominent skills, only turning up at integral moments when needed, such as Sun providing all her kickboxing training for every fight scene, or Capheus’s experience driving.

But again, these are minor quibbles in a show which I enjoyed greatly, and which probably shouldn’t be questioned too pedantically. Kudos again to the programme-makers for being willing to take risks and go ahead with a show which they are obviously deeply passionate about. With just so many shows being made these days, I personally find it exciting to watch something which is obviously trying to take new approaches and cover new ground, and I imagine Sense8 will be a show which will only get bolder now it has taken its first steps.