“The Way, Way Back”
Directed by Nat Faxon, Jim Rash
Starring Liam James, Sam Rockwell, Steve Carell, Toni Collette, Robb Corddry, Amanda Peet, Maya Rudolph, Allison Janney, River Alexander and AnnaSophia Robb
Comedy, Drama
103 Mins
PG-13

While The Way, Way Back has a firm handle on its supporting cast, it leaves the plot to the dogs. It’s that strange breed of hybrid – commonly known as a dramedy – that refuses to settle with just being funny and in reaching for something more, comes up short. In a way, the experience is akin to hanging out at your parents’ beach house: you have to wait in suspended restiveness until the vacation is finished, pretending to enjoy yourself the whole time. At least the weird, beach-deserted manboy trying to be friends with you is actually funny here. 


The film opens up on the back of Steve Carell‘s head as he chastises teenage Duncan. He breaks the rule that is holiest of holies and calls blossoming teen Duncan ugly. Not physically ugly so much as emotionally ugly. Oh and he throws in that he doesn’t respect him either. All the while, Duncan’s mom sleeps in the front seat oblivious. Within these few introductory moments, we’ve established an uncomfortable familial triangle funk and know that we’re all in for a long summer vacation at the beach.

The screenwriting duo of The Descendants, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, take their inaugural directors chairs here and show promise in their ability to harness the brighter elements in the film but allow those without as much luster to get kicked around in the dirt. The emotional oomph precedes itself and the all-too-familiar sense of teenage angst that permeates the film is kind of like having a teenager around – that is, it’s annoying. Not in an egregiously annoying manner so much as a “that kid is having so little fun that he’s sucking the air out of the room” annoying. The uncomfortable in-laws annoying.

We remember that there’s a reason we all wanted to escape the trials and tribulations of teenagedom as we watch the gloom and doom of that self-defeating mindset pervade the mind of our protagonist Duncan. Caught between being rebellious and putting in the minimal amount of effort to please your parents because you still have to live with them for another four years (which seems like eternity), it simply is not a pleasant time. Unfortunately, neither is watching one of these floundering teens.

When you let an animal thrash, it spoils the meat. Even in muted misery, your guests are in store for some sour filling. As so much of the film tries to get us into the head of a pressure-cooking teen boiling over with early-life angst, it shouldn’t really be a surprise that you’re left with a bad taste in your mouth.

Slashing through the acrid flavor is an off-the-wall Sam Rockwell let loose to do what he does best: rant and ramble. Continuing his streak of winning performances, Rockwell gets to play with some emotional gravity here but is really only allowed to scratch the surface. His character bobs in a pool of quick comedy and in it, thrives. Without a doubt, Rockwell is the highlight of the film.

In stark contrast to Rockwell’s easy-breezy-beautiful sensibilities, Liam James of The Killing crumbles under the bulk of the film and his moody, mopey, reluctant character is more pitiable than relatable. We understand his plight and don’t envy his position but he’s helplessly awkward without being helplessly cute. James shows promise but it’s not yet realized.

Towering over him is Carrell whose overbearing potentially-to-be-stepdad is as repugnant as he is potent. He doesn’t have one iota of humanity and surely offers an easy to hate character, depth be damned. Toni Collette is similarly thin on character but we suffer alongside her as the pieces making up her makeshift family collide and drift apart, collide and drift apart.

In a film about relationships, many here are shallow and unbelievable. Collette and Carrell have no chemistry, I’m not buying that Rockwell is into the strict, fugly succubus that is Maya Rudolph and there’s no one on Earth that could convince me that Rob Corddry could land Amanda Peet. But through all the super-glued relationships, the comedy continues to shine. Allison Janney, the only party without a counterpart, is perfect as the drunken-overbearing neighbor and brings us right back to the days of dreading the uncomfortable crazy lady next door. Between Janney and Rockwell, there’s enough solid comedic lunacy to make up for the otherwise failed dramatic gravitas.

The Way, Way Back is a victory but a small and silent one, the kind only a hermit crab or a loner teen could celebrate. Settling to skim on the water’s surface rather than dive into it, Faxon and Rash’s film fails to be brave. Trying to harness love for Little Miss Sunshine thematically and even in the casting, Faxon and Rash have made a festival film that’s more derivative than standalone. The story is a sapling, waiting to flourish into something more. Something more never comes and in the end, we’re no richer having seen it nor are we any worse for the wear.