Eighth Grade (2018)
Director: Bo Burnham
Watched: 2/2/19
Rating: 4/5
Bo Burnham’s feature film debut. Reminiscent of a fellow A1 film aeuter Sean Baker. Bright colors, pastels, music is its own character. Soundtrack is tailored to each scene, and often makes the scene.
Acting is mediocre with most minor characters, e.g. characters Kennedy and Olivia overdone with the insincere, shallow teenager stereotypes (maybe that was the point). Jake Ryan as Gabe, even with his minimal screen time, was adorable (chicken nugget monologue, anyone?) Josh Hamilton as single father Mark Day was well done; the ineptitude and inelegance he displayed while trying to connect to his teenage daughter, yet one could always see how hard he was trying in his mind, and how torn he was between doing the right thing and doing what he thought would win Kayla over. Elsie Fisher stole the show playing our young heroine. She played the awkwardness, the insecurities, and exemplifies a tween’s unreasonable logic beautifully.
Everything that irked me here only further went to show how accurate Burnham got the teenage angst and insecurities in this era. Very specific to Millennials, breeded on social media. What irked me? The incessant screens, the use of “like” every few seconds, the clear dependence and belief that social media is gospel.
From young Kayla Day’s perspective, we see and feel an innocent coming of age for today’s tween. (It might be important to note here that because it is almost strictly from a first person point of view, we miss out on truly understanding the other characters. Viewers may find themselves wondering about their backstories; having trouble connecting to other characters.) A large part of the runtime was used to play Kayla’s videos on her barely viewed YouTube Channels, in which she found herself on her internal soapbox, passing out advice on various topics, from boys to self-esteem- all very relevant to her peers. Most importantly, however, this was the only venue in which she was comfortable to truly be herself, making this an important window into who she really was and how she was really feeling. This was Kayla’s outlet, her therapy, her opportunity to ignore any peer pressure and societal expectations. Last but not least, it is these videos- from the first video she makes to herself at the beginning of eighth grade to the last one she sends to the future Kayla at the end of middle school- that truly elucidates to the viewer how much she had learned and grown in the course of the film. Like bookends, they mark the beginning and end of our time with the remarkably courageous Kayla Day. Courageous how? In this day and age, staying true to yourself as best as you can in the intense world of brutal teenagers is a feat.
Millennials have certainly grown up differently. Imagine, never knowing anything but technology. MySpace is no longer relevant, the days of AOL Instant Messenger long gone, Pluto no longer taught as one of the planets in our dollar system. All replaced by hours on various internet sites, buying everything from the comfort of their rooms, stalking everyone they know and do not know on The Facebook, excessively filtered photographs on Instagram, baring their souls on YouTube, updating the world and beyond on Twitter in 280 characters (previously 140!). And the list goes on. Though all these things are new, bullying, the fake interactions, the clicks, and the burning desire to fit in are no different in this century than they were in the last. And I can appreciate that Burnham not only understood this, but found a creative outlet in which to express this.
Awkward moments are plentiful in this film, making for an uncomfortable 1.5 hours- but guess what? That is what makes it perfectly representative of most teenagers’ daily lives. The videos did get a little tiresome, it lacked supporting character depth, some performances and scenes were vexing, and the format of vignettes made for a somewhat discombobulated viewing experience- but, in the end, “Eighth Grade” is a refreshing slice of life film that will leave a lasting impression.