On the surface, 'Me And Earl And The Dying Girl', looks like another one of those whimsical coming-of-age movies with awkward, photogenically geeky teens who learn a whole bunch of life lessons while cute indie tunes play in the background.
That’s because it is.
There’s even the obligatory narration from the main character and, as always, said narrator’s wild imagination protrudes and intermingles with the world he inhabits. Rounding out the quirky-indie-film shopping list are a collection of eccentric characters. Most notable are the cat-obsessed, sociology professor dad who lounges around the house in kaftans and has a penchant for bizarre meats; the best friend, Earl, who’s characterisation is like something you might find in the African-American section of a book titled ‘The White Person’s Guide to Racial Stereotyping’; the disturbingly affectionate cougar-esque mum of Rachel, the dying girl; and then, of course, the requisite ‘hot girl’.
While they, and all the other characters occupying the film’s world, each have unique features, they also all lack depth. The only dimensions they carry are the one’s visible to our protagonist (whose name is Greg, by the way). The hot girl just gets around being hot and asking Greg to do things. Rachel’s mum is sad and horny with a lack of boundaries that creates some cringe-inducing moments between her and the young lads. But that’s entirely it, that’s all we see of her.
Before you assume this is a fault on behalf of the film though, consider this: maybe that’s all we see because that’s all Greg sees. The first word in the title is ‘Me’ and the grammatical impoliteness of this is absolutely fitting. It is a movie full of me’s crying out for the fulfilment of their needs, with one major me leading the way. While the most tumultuous events are happening to Rachel, the dying girl, ultimately, the movie is about Greg and his journey through it. This being the case, the two-dimensionality of the other characters is no-longer a flaw, it’s an accurate reflection of what the world looks like to a self-centred, self-loathing teenager.
From this subtly portrayed vantage point, Me et al. skilfully balances comedy and tragedy, the combination of which, when successfully carried out, will always create something special. It’s like combining chilli with chocolate. The concoction sounds bizarre but each conflicting flavour enhances the other, creating a reaction that makes the whole experience far more profound.
The quirky characters side-step coming off as kitschy thanks to the talent of the actors filling them. Nick Offerman barely needs to do anything to be funny and his embodiment of Greg’s cuttlefish-eating oddity of a father is calmly hilarious. Molly Shannon’s unsettling knack for being wildly yet believably inappropriate made her perfect as Rachel’s overly friendly mother. And, while RJ Cyler’s monotonal voice and droopy-lidded facial expression are reminiscent of Napoleon Dynamite’s sidekick, Pedro, his characterisation is unique and he provides many of the film’s laughs.
The lessons Greg learns through his adventures with Earl and the dying girl, on the surface, seem rather small. Yet, on closer inspection, what’s brought home to him is massive. Rachel succeeds in shaking his solipsistic world view and we get to see the first tiny cracks form in it. With the realisation that all of the people surrounding him are more than just supporting characters in his story, his entire philosophy of life is shattered. That’s a pretty big thing.
This effect is so subtly produced in the film, it may well come off as a poorly coloured in portrait of life. But the beauty of it is, the poor colouring is in there because we’re seeing it from inside the eyes of the person responsible for the portrait.
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'Me And Earl And The Dying Girl' in cinemas Thursday September 3.
