Mid90s (2018)

Where were you in 1996? I was infant, having moved from my first home in Yorktown Heights to my grandmother's house in the south end of New Rochelle, waiting for our new house to be built and for my younger brother to be born sometime in October. For Jonah Hill, it was a little something like Mid90s. A Richard Linklater-esque throwback to the days of Mortal Kombat, Bevis and Butthead, gangsta-rap, baggy jeans and endless summer days of the eternal skateboard. Shredding up and down the block without a care of oncoming traffic. The 90s, admittedly were a time that seemed carefree for most American kids. Jonah Hill takes us back to that time with a semi-autobiographical film that managed to impress me more than any film I've seen yet this year, and fill me with nothing but nostalgic love.

If you know what the phrase Cinema Verite means, you'll know it precisely applies to Mid90s. Nothing pretentious or overly thematic about this film. It's so scratchy and authentic that it even feels like a documentary film made from this era. We follow the life of Stevie, played by a breakout star in Sunny Suljic, a troubled kid who constantly gets ragged on by his moody older brother Ian (Lucas Hedges) and overly protected by his preoccupied mother (Katherine Waterson). His life is miserable. He finds no escape in his only refuge away from the outside world. So instead, he jumps right into the world of the skate-rats. He befriends Ruben, Ray, Fourth Grade and Fuckshit... yes, that's his name. Druggies, alchies and other miscreants who shred by day and chill at night. Even in this period piece, I found similarities by these characters and many of the people I hung out with and went to school with. Don't lie to yourself, you've all met someone like them. Stevie suddenly becomes just one of the guys. He gets into all sorts of trouble... and that's what this film is all about. Trouble, the good kind. Chilling with your boys and making unforgettable memories.

In that sense, it's barely a period piece. Any person can relate to this as a coming-of-age story, and as minimal as some of the anecdotes depicted here may sound, it's the way Hill brings it to life that counts. He's a natural born director. He has a whip-crack knack for telling stories. He seems sincere and passionate about telling this story. I hope we see more of him behind the camera, as much as we do in front.

This film is hella dope, to coin a phrase from the Mid-90s.