Adolescence is something disconcerting, liberating and full of transition. That is the assorted message to be taken from Rebecca Thomas’ lo-fi directorial and writing debut.
In truth, this is not identifying anything that a plethora of coming-of-age dramas have yet to address, but with an alluring use of religious allegory helping to form an eccentric plot, Electrick Children keeps such ideas surprisingly fresh.
The film centres on Rachel (Julia Garner), a modern day Mary Madeline. Living as part of a religious and primitive colony cut off from the contemporary world, she comes to believe she has had an immaculate conception having accidentally listened to a tape recording of Hanging on the Telephone. She flees the settlement, going in search of the man whose voice led her to pregnancy. Beside her, less willingly, is her brother Mr. Will (Liam Aiken), who is banished from the camp after being falsely accused of raping his sister.
Their perceptions are challenged when they meet Clyde (Rory Culkin), a rocker meandering his way through teenagehood. What then plays out is a clash of traditions and cultures, one that is incredibly relevant to real, present day America, a country so often paradoxical in its display of strict fundamentalism and rebellious excess. Indeed, a lot of the film’s pleasures can be attributed to its juxtaposition of these traits.
Electrick Children has, in abundance, what is required of any good story: character. There is a great sense of honesty and believability when Rachel and Mr. Will discover the joys and discrepancies of modern living, whether that is trying to work out how to use a mobile phone or listening to heavy metal music, like time travelers from a distant past. Among the many dexterous performances (and it is worth noting that not one actor fails to impress), it is Garner who stands tallest, manifesting in Rachel a multi-layered personality of loveable naivety and fragility, yet also of steely determination. It is a charming, involving performance.
Credit inevitably also goes to Thomas, who affords her characters, including those in hedonistic society, pathos and development. It makes a story that could have been separatist and introverted, particularly given its autobiographical sensibility (Thomas herself is a Mormon), rather secular instead. She keeps things levelheaded; no judgements are to be made about right or wrong cultures. The practices of faith, for example, are shown to be rational, as much as they are restrictive. Ultimately, it is a film that does not deal in black and white, and it perseveres with its mystical ambiguity, which admittedly may intrigue some but frustrate others.
Underlying a maturity beyond her experience, Thomas also deserves praise for the beautiful aesthetics on show. Suggestive of the way that Rachel may see her new world, as bedazzling, as something she does not quite see clearly, the majority of scenes operate in shallow focus, some with neon lights illuminating the background in a colourful haze. It is a form of cinematography that would not be out of place in a Gus Van Sant film, which is meant as the highest of praise.
It may very well fall under the radar, but Electrick Children is quaint, odd and compelling, and certainly one of the finer releases of the year.