Submarine
"Most people think of themselves as individuals, that there is no one on the planet like them. This thought motivates them to get out of bed, eat food and walk around like nothing is wrong," opines Oliver Tate (Jane Eyre's Craig Roberts). Oliver, too, thinks of himself as an individual. The 15 year-old often daydreams about how respected he is by his classmates: he is not. He also considers that the female students might be devastated if he died unexpectedly: they would not. He also sees himself as a visionary, and thinks he may become a great artist: again, this may not be exactly true. Oliver, in fact, is close to an unreliable narrator, whose many proclamations are - if not false - then certainly exaggerated, including his sentimentalised relationship with the standoffish Jordana Bevan (Yasmine Paige) and his possessive attempts to prevent his mother (Sally Hawkins) from cheating on his father (Noah Taylor).
Since its successful debut at the Toronto Film Festival last year, Richard Ayoade's Submarine has earned deserved plaudits for its delicate emotional intensity and cinematic literacy. Based on the 2008 novel by Joe Dunthorne (who also serves as a script supervisor), this sublime film debut is a remarkable achievement, a coming-of-age comedy/drama made with a technical assurance and comic invention uncommon for this subgenre. The film's tone - part American, French and British - is subtle and expressionistic, simultaeously capturing - and comically undermining - Oliver's adolescent naïvety and zeal. Given that it is the first film from actor Ayoade - previously best known for sincere, but oddball turns on The I.T. Crowd and The Mighty Boosh - the accomplishment is all the more satisfying.
Ayoade's technique may seem initially arch, but the writer/director clearly feels an affinity for the beleaguered Oliver. Clearly, Ayoade is influenced by the unburnished melancholy of Hal Ashby and Nicolas Roeg's inventive colour choices (like Jordana's Don't Look Now-style red coat), yet Submarine is not a technical exercise in meta references. Ayoade places himself in the perspective of Oliver, and he allows Oliver's feelings to dictate the film's visual and aural choices. As a result, the film's stylistic choices feel less like filmmaker affectations than character quirks: for instance, Oliver and Jordana's bourgeoning relationship is represented by Super 8 video which is spliced with New Wave-like cuts. The sequence - replete with a guitar-fused riff written by Alex Turner (of The Artic Monkeys) - communicates the overwhelming emotional intensity of the situation, even as Ayoade suggests Oliver's meta-leanings: the sequence also features credits, including 'Tate - Bevan Productions,' a hint of Oliver's egotism even amidst his romanticism.
Submarine is also wonderfully performed. The film features a very specific and understated style of humour/drama, and Ayoade and his casting team went through a long process to find the right young actors for the film: around 100 kids submitted tapes for the roles of Oliver, Jordana and Oliver's idiot mate Chips (played by Darren Evans). Whether or not Ayoade spent an extraordinary amount of time to hone their performances, the results are impressive.
Despite the potential creepiness of Oliver (under the pseudonym of his father, he writes a sexually explicit note to his mother in a bid to reunite the pair), Roberts' performance is sweet and winning, mixing astonishing (read: misguided) self-assurance with social discomfort. Not afraid to look buffoonish, Roberts beautifully essays the characters' fragile emotional state, making it clear that - despite his literacy and knowledge - Oliver is very much an adolescent.
Former child actor Paige, too, is a strong choice for the female lead. Jordana begins the film as a cruel and aloof love interest, smugly commenting on Oliver's attempts to woo her and bullying a female student. Paige, though, gives the character a sense of weight and compelling quality even in these early scenes, giving credence to Oliver's infatuation with her. Furthermore, in comparison to, say, Mary Elizabeth Winstead's slightly vacuous performance in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, both Jordana's character and Paige's performance grow over the course of the film, ultimately suggesting the moving potential for generosity and empathy in a previously brutal characterisation.
The adult actors give nicely rounded performances, too. Taylor - who was once the coming-of-age kid in The Year My Voice Broke and Flirting - gets his best role in a long time as Oliver's depressed, but decent father. Hawkins (Happy-Go-Lucky, An Education) continues her range of interesting roles as Oliver's mother, who - once likely a bubbly woman - is increasingly unhappy in her marriage.
In the film's sole broad performance, actor/director Paddy Considine gives a performance so large it almost verges on Nicolas Cage-like surrealism. As a new age guru with designs on Mrs. Tate, Considine is outrageously funny, capturing the character's ludicrousness with bizarre line readings and nimble physicality. Ayoade gives the serious performer a chance to truly let loose, and the actor rewards the director's confidence with a furiously original creation: one sequence - in which he practices his martial arts training as his girlfriend pleasures him - is so divorced from conventional human behaviour that it verges on the abstract.
Certainly the funniest British comedy since In the Loop (even the end credits highlight Ayoade's wit, including this doozy - Sarah Pasquali as 'Woman who looks nothing like Jordana'), Submarine is a surprisingly inventive and often-poignant recollection of adolescence.
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