Boyhood

 

Back in 2002, director Richard Linklater cast the then six-year old Ellar Coltrane in a film project that’s ambition was only matched by its riskiness. Linklater’s plan was to shoot a film around Coltrane, at roughly annual periods, for twelve years. His aspiration was to extend his usual style of hyper-reality and penchant for playing with time to blend the fictional narrative of a character growing up to the actual ageing of Coltrane on the screen.

The risks involved were astronomical, from banking on the young actor’s reliability and future acting talent, relying on fellow collaborators Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette (who signed no formal contracts, only a verbal, good-will agreement) to securing the financial backing of a studio who, at the very best, could expect a return in over a decade. The result of this pioneering endeavor is Boyhood, a bona fide cinematic masterpiece.

It isn’t a Forrest Gump-like run through the significant cultural, political and personal periods of Mason’s (Coltrane) life. That isn’t the point at all. Rather we are offered glimpses of his existence, like a broken mosaic. Characters come and go, sometimes with explanation, sometimes not. Plot isn’t propelled along formulaically; instead it is pieced together through candid snapshots of adolescence.

Mason’s estranged parents (Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette) are nameless, but each progress through their own twelve year journey. His father, at first an unreliable, chain-smoking weekend dad, evolves into a suit-and-tie-wearing family man. His mother, conversely, flits between normality and instability fuelled by a host of different relationships. The performances from Coltrane, Arquette, Hawke and Linklater’s own daughter Lorelei, as the sister, are faultless, with the regular Linklater collaborator Hawke creating arguably his finest performance to date.

There are no heavy-handed set pieces, where candles are lit, the parents are away and Mason finally has his first girlfriend alone. Rather, his metamorphosis is more naturalistic. It is the small, idiosyncratic parts of your childhood that form the bulk of your memories, with the things that seemed most important then seemingly irrelevant now, and vice versa.

The poignancy captured in Linklater’s greatest film to date is awe-inspiring, particularly when considering the sporadic nature of the film’s production.  The three-hour running time barely feels long enough.

Boyhood is both remarkably unique and astonishingly familiar. It isn’t just about an American childhood, nor is it exclusively about male adolescence. It’s not about growing up in a broken home, nor being raised by different father figures. Linklater has captured such a perfect, universal image of what growing up is, that all will find something recognisable in it.

If there was any doubt, Boyhood confirms Richard Linklater’s reputation as one of the most successful and visionary directors to emerge from the independent American film movement. It is a truly extraordinary piece of narrative cinema, the likes of which I have never seen before, and in all likelihood, will never be attempted again.

Boyhood will be shown at Broadway Cinema until, at least, Thursday 31 July 2014.

Boyhood Official Site