Me and Earl and the Dying Girl & We Could Be King (Movie Reviews by Bob Racine)

                  Me and Earl etc: 1 hr & 45 min, color, 2015

                  We Could Be King: 1 hr & 20 min, color, 2015

                            

How many of us remember our senior year in high school?  I am not referring to how it ended – Prom night, commencement & diploma and such like – I am speaking of the months and weeks that made up that year, the struggle to finish one course after another, the debate over which college to try for, or perhaps for some of us who were not Magna Cum Laude material, a nagging worry about whether we would graduate at all.  I know Math caused me a lot of that worry.  That last semester I took a College Algebra course that did not come easily for me. 

The entire class consisted of seniors, and on the morning of the final exam the professor walked in with his mimeographed copies of the test and as he started to pass them out, he commented, in reference to them, that “we’ll see now how many of you are going to hand in your caps and gowns”.  Can you imagine a more daggered morale booster than that?  (Of course, as it turned out, the exam was a breeze for me, and yes I said a well-earned goodbye to the twelfth grade just a few days afterward.)

                            

Seniors do have a fine line to tow, between the last inch of their childhoods and the wide open, awesome cavity of an uncertain adult future.  Excitement, jitters, high expectations, anxiety, confidence, fear of failure, all intermixed!  If you have any memory of it at all, you will have little trouble understanding or identifying with the major players in these two splendid films.  One, “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl”, a fictional drama/comedy, and the other, “We Could Be King”, a first rate factual documentary!  

                            

What I love the most about “Me and Earl” is the choice of the writer Jan Andrews (adapting from her novel) to create a type of teen character that rarely ever gets major consideration in a motion picture.  Greg (Thomas Mann) is the kind of kid who has no chance of ever being voted The Most Handsome, The Wittiest, The Most Popular or The Most Likely to Succeed.  He has a narrow hound dog face, a sad expression much of the time, a jaundiced opinion of himself, and does not mix all that much.  He dresses rather shabbily and is not a dater.  He has a friend (RJ Cyler), the Earl of the title, who lives in a low rent district that happens to be located just a few blocks from Greg’s residence.  The two boys, friends since early childhood, are many light years removed from anything Ivy League.  There are no clean cut, athletic heart throbs to clutter up this very personal coming of age story.  It belongs completely to the two of them and to a petite girl who has been stricken with Leukemia.

                            

Her name is Rachel (Olivia Cooke).   When Greg first goes to visit her, going most reluctantly upon the arm twisting of his own mother, the girl is about to start chemotherapy and is no more enthused about “hanging out” with him than he is with her.  It seems the two mothers are allied around the notion that a “nice boy” like Greg would be just the balm Rachel needs.  But remarkable things happen between them over the six months of their strange, at times awkward and embattled friendship.  Little does he know that he has things to learn from her and that his life under her influence will undergo a seismic sea change, however resistant to it he is, while his friend Earl, a rough and tumble sort, becomes paradoxically a strangely steadying force.

                            

Greg and Earl have for years been creating home movies designed as parodies of old movie classics.  The intercutting of images from their amateur work creates a lot of visual amusement.  The entire movie is narrated by Greg, his narration mixed with titling that designates specific phases and sub-chapters in what he calls his “doomed relationship” with the dying girl.  What really challenges his wits is the pressure brought upon him to make a film for Rachel to be completed during the time she has left.  In fact, the entire production has the aura of a home movie.  But it is anything but amateur stuff. 

The human drama/comedy picks up more and more strength as it proceeds.  The dialogue for the kids is quite authentic, insightful and forceful.  It all seems to be a maiden voyage for the whole cast and crew; there is not a face that I ever remember seeing before nor name I ever recall hearing about before, including its director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon.  But it proves quite seaworthy, and I think most intelligent viewers will feel grateful for having climbed aboard.  It won multiple awards and a standing ovation at the Sundance Film Festival.

A callow youth is forced somewhat prematurely to confront the titanic and very tangible subjects of mortality and personal grief, and it pays suitable respect to them without turning into a tear jerker.
 
A personal brag (sort of) is in order before I do a little expounding on the virtues of a terrific documentary feature, “We Could Be King”, about some high school-ers who recently had an enormous barrier to penetrate, not only for the purpose of excelling at football but for that of graduating with an academic record that keeps them in their uniforms.  Because I am not a great football fan, I probably would never have taken a second look at it, but my wife Ruby had a student in elementary school named Ruchi Mital, who has remained throughout the intervening years not only a grateful high-achieving learner giving high marks to her teacher but also a close friend of Ruby’s and, by acquisition, mine as well. 

Ruchi is the Production Coordinator on “We Could Be King”, working with Producer Caitlin Mae Burke and the film’s Director Judd Ehrlich.  I am so glad that she put us in touch with this fine piece of work.  It is an example of excellent pacing and editing and photographic ingenuity and of empathetic reporting and visualization.  There is not a tedious moment or an overbearing sequence.  Images of life on the field and those off the field are well in balance. 

                            

The scene is northeast Philadelphia, where educational budgets are being slashed all over the area, schools closed and teachers losing their jobs.  One of the schools biting the dust was Germantown High whose student body merged with that of Martin Luther King High, up to that point a fierce, bitter rival on the gridiron. 

                            

What you watch in the footage of this film is a miracle in the making.  It might pertain to football but it is not really about football.  It is about some of the most fascinating adolescents I have ever had the experience of watching – jumping over all kinds of hurdles that only boys from a poverty background would ever be likely to face, some of the hurdles in the classroom, some in the dangerous street environment where they are growing up, some inside themselves.  Most of the kids we see are seniors struggling to obtain an athletic scholarship, a goal that requires a scholastic record of excellence.  The fact is that both teams had been doing quite poorly, losing more games than they won. How then could two such outfits with such a sorry record form one combined ball club that would have any chance of achieving anything like excellence? 

                            

That question can be answered in two words: Ed Dunn.  This man is the coach who made it all happen.  We have probably all seen or heard of high school sports coaches who are anything but ethical or even-tempered, who swear in front of the students, who bully and belittle to get the results they want and engage in all kinds of counterproductive tricks and maneuvers, more to serve their own egos than to do anything constructive for the young people they are supposed to serve.  But Mr. Dunn is a marvel to behold and to hear. 

He is a supreme role model for every aspiring man or woman preparing to take on the job of putting kids through competitive paces.  He knows when to push and when to ease up, when to raise the bar, when to slack off, when to criticize and when to build self-confidence.  As far as I am concerned this man is the true star of this documentary.  When one of his boys starts maligning another, he steps right in with a favorite byword of his, “Pick him up; don’t push him down.”  His byword reflects a passionate belief that when one kid is shut out or allowed to fail or feel small, the whole team suffers.  I just loved watching this man. Such tremendous commitment guiding those disadvantaged youth to victory!

                            

I close with an example of how he talked to his students:

                            

“We come from humility. This is not a private school. We ain’t got Nike practice jerseys, pants, and the whole nine. We got mismatched cleats. We go to different schools, difficult situations, but that’s not what makes us weak. That’s what makes us stronger than everybody else. This should be your motivation. This is not an excuse. Humility. That’s why we get in this dirt. That’s why we get on this hill. So we remain humble.”

                            

Both films can be obtained from Netflix.  Whether you choose to send for the disc or to stream, I earnestly suggest you consider making use of the subtitles.  The dialogue is rapid fire and contains much of the argot of the streets and school grounds that may not come to rest clearly on every ear.  

To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com. To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.