ME AND EARL AND THE DYING GIRL – The Review

What does it take to get to know someone? Like truly, to know someone. Greg (Thomas Mann) drifts through his high-school days by casually interacting with all of the social circles. He’s perfectly content with his surface level “friendships” he has with the jocks, the techno-geeks, the white-guy hip-hop kid – never taking the time to go too far out of his way to get to know any of them and always hiding his own life in the process. Even Earl (R.J. Cyler) is never described as a friend by Greg, instead he’s called a co-worker due to the film spoofs they make together. All of this changes though when Greg’s mom (Connie Britton) forces him to go visit the girl from school that was diagnosed with cancer. What soon develops though between Greg and the dying Rachel (Olivia Cook) calls into question Greg’s impersonal way of getting through life.

In fairness, ME AND EARL… rubbed me the wrong way at the onset. The way Greg is portrayed and acts made me question whether I wanted to endure an entire film around this smug and self-centered teen. But in many ways that’s sort of what makes the film endearing. There’s a self-knowing attitude about the film as it presents itself as a standard indie while also making jokes at its own expense. Greg may not be the ideal lead you would expect, but that’s just one of the ways this film might surprise you.

Between the occasional voiceover, Greg’s hippy-dippy parents (Nick Offerman as a zen world traveler crossed with the “Dude”), Rachel’s day drinking flirty mother (a role Molly Shannon seems born to play), cutesy stop-motion sequences interspersed throughout, and some stylish camerawork, you would think that the film would reek of indie pretension. Most of the time this stuff works. Sure, you get the feeling that The Criterion Collection was a sponsor given how often their products are shown, and yes, the camerawork feels too forced at times becoming more of a distraction to the story than enhancing. Yet, the majority of these quirky stereotypes we’ve become accustomed to seeing every year from “the next great Sundance indie film” actually don’t feel tired or obnoxious. All of these elements that are fairly contrived on paper feel fresh in the hands of director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon. It’s his exuberance for the characters that invigorates these clichés; if only he would have let these characters be the main focus and not get caught up in capturing them in long camera shots, some off center cropping, or other aesthetic decisions that call too much attention to themselves.

As I mentioned earlier, Greg’s life carries a running theme of what exists on the surface versus what’s going on underneath. This theme even extends to the short films Greg and Earl make and hide from others. Yes, they are creating clever spoofs of famous films (2:48 PM COWBOY instead of MIDNIGHT COWBOY, A SOCKWORK ORANGE instead of A CLOCKWORK WORK, and SEVEN SEALS instead of THE SEVENTH SEAL, just to name a few), but they are simply recreating the images without giving much thought to what the original images really meant. Greg is a film geek with an extensive knowledge of classic cinema, but just like the image he presents to everyone around him, he’s more interested in presenting a funny façade than anything “real.”

As his relationship with Rachel blossoms his outer shell begins to break down. The genuine charm he lets the audience in on through his narration becomes more apparent. Rachel makes him feel more alive even as her weeks begin to number. There’s a natural chemistry between Cook and Mann. Cook especially comes across as just a normal teenager frustrated with the cards she’s been dealt. There aren’t grand gestures of love and whimsy, instead we are shown the small, quiet moments that exist between a boy that feels helpless and a girl that feels even more so. As the comedy takes a backseat in the second half of the film, what keeps the film from feeling so dour is the loving friendship between the couple. The two strong leads create such genuine characters that it is hard not to get swept up in the emotions.

Alfonso Gomez-Rejon lovingly includes many nods to classic films throughout the film. However the most important nod is probably the subtlest one. Without getting into details for risk of spoilers, there’s a sequence showing Rachel watching a film in bed where the camera holds for long periods of time on her face. We (the audience) watch her as she watches a film. The colored lights that dance across her face are reminiscent of when Bowman in 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY encounters the monolith in space which causes him to drift through galaxies of space and light – his eyes and face dazzled by the neon lights in front of him. This moment is a magical and powerful moment in ME AND EARL… for many reasons and is easily one of the best cinematic moments I’ve witnessed this year, but it also speaks to the power of film. It shows how a single film, whether it’s made by a master like Stanley Kubrick or by an amateur filmmaker, has the power to spark love and life in all of us.

ME AND EARL AND THE DYING GIRL deftly combines pieces of several film genres into one satisfying whole. Equal parts satirical comedy, coming-of-age high-school tale, moving cancer drama, and touching love-letter to film appreciation, Alfonso Gomez-Rejon has crafted one of the standout indie films of the year – one that’s not afraid to wear its heart and its influences proudly on its sleeve.

Overall rating: 4 out of 5

ME AND EARL AND THE DYING GIRL opens in St. Louis this Friday, June 26.