The problem with writing about Young Adult is that there are so many ways to approach the movie. I could start off with the old Steve Martin quote, “Comedy isn’t always pretty.” I could also talk about how Charlize Theron’s character is like watching Charlie Sheen on “Two and a Half Men” once the cameras are removed.
Instead, I’ll start by saying I have a compulsion to watch movies where the plot is the main character returns to his or her hometown. Not enough of a compulsion where I have to go out and rent the movie, but enough of one that I want to know what the plot is. For the most part, the movies are utter dreck, usually romantic comedies where the main character has all sorts of embarrassing pratfalls and incidents, and ends up solving literally everything with some impassioned romantic speech about how their co-star is their sun and their moon, and that the main character is a much better person now. Sweet Home Alabama, check. Hope Floats, check. Just Friends, check.
Then we have Young Adult. The plot is pretty simple: Mavis Gary (played by Charlize Theron), has escaped her small town of Mercury, Minnesota to escape to Minneapolis, Minnesota. She’s a ghostwriter for a young adult series of books that is eerily similar to the endless Sweet Valley High series. When she’s not writing, she’s a hard-drinking party girl with no sense of neatness and a line of one-night stands. As she’s busy ghost writing the latest book, she gets an email from her old high school sweetheart who has sent out a mass email about the release of his first baby. Mavis takes this as a sign that she was always meant to be with her high school sweetheart, and immediately goes on a quest to win him back. The whole wife and kid thing? To her, it’s just prior relationship baggage. Nothing to be too concerned about.
When she gets to her hometown, she meets Matt Friedhoff (played by Patton Oswalt), a high school geek who got severely beat up once upon a time because some jocks thought he was gay. As Mavis tries to steal her high school sweetheart away, she and Matt form an odd bond with one another.
That’s the plot, and it seems on the surface to be one of the standard funny-and-sweet ideas, where Mavis of course realizes that Matt is the one for her all along, and they live happily ever after. Except that’s not where the movie goes at all. Mavis and Matt are two incredibly broken people, and at the end of the movie only Mavis shows signs of growth. I’ve noticed a few other reviewers complain about wanting to see more of Matt, and I agree, but he’s not the main character in this movie—Mavis is.
One of the best parts of Young Adult is that it takes some tired tropes and examines them. On the surface, Mavis is essentially Charlie Sheen in Two and a Half Men. (I know that Charlie Sheen plays a different character named “Charlie,” but come on—we all know he’s playing himself.) But Mavis sits head and shoulders above Charlie Sheen and those similar freewheeling party characters just by asking why the characters do what they do? In Mavis’ case, it’s because she is fundamentally unhappy. There’s a fantastic scene where she talks with her parents, and as her parents are fussing over her, she says with no lead-in, “I think I’m an alcoholic.” It comes at you sideways, but it’s also completely plausible. As the movie goes on, more and more cracks in Mavis’ personality become apparent, until the façade she’s created for everyone, including herself, falls apart. Here’s the thing, though—at the end, Mavis’ personality has been completely deconstructed, and she knows it as much as anyone. “I’ve got problems,” she tells Matt’s sister, and then Matt’s sister gives Mavis as much praise as anyone has heaped on her throughout the movie. There are no easy answers in this movie, and no one is one hundred percent good or bad. As Matt’s sister points out, Mavis has reached out. She has tried to be the best she can be, and even though Mavis has become this alcoholic, arguably depressed, woman, because she’s fallen so far short of her goals, that’s a lot more than many people who still live in Mercury can say.
The other side of the coin is Matt. He’s broken both physically—he has to walk with a crutch—and mentally. He doesn’t really engage the rest of the world, he just does the accounting for a sports bar and spends the rest of his time painting action figures and brewing extremely alcoholic liquor with names like “Mos Eisley Vintage.” He’s basically been shown how far down the totem pole he truly ranked in high school, and it shows in his mid-thirties. He’s never been able to put the past behind him, as opposed to another handicapped character who shows up briefly, Mavis’ cousin Mike who somehow became a paraplegic. Matt hates him because his injury stole the attention away from Matt, Mavis hates him because his injury took place on the weekend of her 16th birthday party. The thing is, Mike is better adjusted than either of them. The symbolism is pretty obvious, but what’s interesting is how many ways you can analyze the three characters. There’s some implication that Mike was popular as well, and his injury was due to an accident. Mike’s injury was getting beaten up with a crowbar. There is some difference there, and it would be fun to discuss it with other people.
The layers of depth are really what propel Young Adult into the realm of greatness. Diablo Cody and Jason Reitman have managed to put together characters that are so three-dimensional and so much goes on in the movie that it will have people talking about it for months, or at least it should. Does Mavis have clinical depression? Will Matt be able to come to terms with his injury and move on? What is the real view of Mavis—sarcastic depressed failure, or a woman who has done some remarkable things?
I should point out that Charlize Theron makes the movie. She really brings Mavis to life, and she puts forth an Oscar-quality performance. A lot of her performance is non-vocal, and she portrays it expertly. She does bored extremely well when she’s by herself, but she’s showing more than just boredom. She’s showing boredom plus frustration plus resignation. She’s a good enough actress that when she’s standing in her underwear near the end of the film, it’s not sexy. It’s her symbolically letting her façade drop, and it’s a little heartrending, which I never quite thought I’d say about seeing a model in lingerie.
In case I haven’t put too fine a point on this review, Young Adult is very, very good. I seriously think the film should get some Oscar awards, and unlike a lot of Oscar-worthy movies, this isn’t pretentious or artistic at the expense of the story—it’s simply a well-told, deep story, and almost everyone will walk away with something different. For me, what I got out of it was this—happiness is a choice. One thing and one person isn’t going to make you happy. It’s something you have to do for yourself. I think I’ve known that already, but it’s good to relearn.
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