and the string of belated reviews continue…
possibly the most surprising aspect of drake doremus’ modest, grand-jury winning love-story like crazy triumphing over sean durkin’s unforgettable cult-flick at last year’s sundance lies in the essence of what exactly the jury were validating with their decision: teen romance is serious business. euphoric montages, brash impulsiveness and ill-advised L-bombs have never been the easiest of phases to get behind — especially since most of us have emerged at the other side of that chapter already as wiser, wearier beings. we’re so much quicker to dismiss those heightened pangs of infatuation for foolish, youthful naivety, rather than acknowledge — god forbid! — a legitimate emotional crisis in our midst.
the most resonant moment of like crazy occurs not between sheets or showers, but in an exchange between female lead anna (an excellent felicity jones) and her older, more-enlightened employer. “i don’t feel very young”, anna explains; to which her boss knowingly replies, “well, you are…” –- an apt mantra for each generation. doremus inhabits both impulse and wisdom with an absorbed attention to the detail of each headspace; the latter of which slowly soaking into the pair’s bond until an atrabilious coda arrives to remind you how long ago that peach-tinted highlight reel really was.
had doremus not tapped into these perspectives as eloquently, and naturally, as he has, like crazy probably wouldn’t register beyond what it is on paper: a laugh-free going the distance. long distance relationships are an unequivocal motherfucker (been there, endured that) so they naturally make for equally frustrating viewing, especially once additional partners and text message surveillance are thrown in the mix. yet as contrived and somewhat trivial as many sequences will be, the free-flowing, improvisational performances of both felicity jones and anton yelchin admittedly do lend a much-needed naturalism to their quandary, with a familiarity rooted in day-to-day relational experience rather than onscreen cliché.
while narrowly avoiding spoiler territory, i can divulge that like crazy feels like it will likely end up in either of two outcomes, and wisely chooses neither; spinning the indie-tune-laden schmaltzer it should have been into a picture with a sagacious, bookending maturity to recall lone scherfig’s an education. rarely are audiences, or characters, confronted with “well, you are…” in this sort of fare, and while the sundance accolade still doesn’t feel completely warranted, it’s a victory one can at least understand a jury arriving at.
trailer here.
