First time I heard of the movie
Summer of '42 when reading
Tarantino's review of
American Graffiti. In
his review a large chunk is dedicated to this picture, because he is trying to illustrate the aesthetic similarities between the two pictures and the broader genre shifts of the 60s and 70s cinema landscape, that gave way to something like
American Graffiti. Shortly after that, there was
the review by Troler. And then finally, which made me grab my lazy ass and put it into the chair to watch this film, was a conversation I had with
@Troler , where he so kindly spoiled the ending of this movie for me, while breaking down the cinematic techniques used in the film.
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Speaking of the cinematic techniques, the direction of
Robert Mulligan is quite on point. Yet I cannot pretend that I enjoyed every single shot decision made in this movie. See, Mulligan is not
Spielberg and is not
Hitchcock or somebody else who uses cinematic language precisely, fluently and to the point. His direction in this film is very much late 60s and early 70s. The shots are beautiful and the camera does some really good stuff, but sometimes, once in a while you will have a shot of nothing at all. The camera would be ashamed, or something, of whatever is going on, on the screen, and pivot out of the way, such that for a moment, you might get a little confused as to "why".
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In a way Mulligan operates on a similar level to directors like
Lars Von Trier,
Luca Guadagnino, or sometimes
Michael Bay. The film-making is not precise, per se, but in combination with the rest of the scene, with the emotional context and so on and so forth, those "strange" decisions appear to actually work quite fantastically. It feels like they were done not because of some calculated cinematic grammar, but just because of a gut feeling. A gut feeling that yields a strangely successful result.
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But let's actually talk about the story of the film. Yes. The plot. The psycho-sexual nature of it. The whole thing feels out of the same bunch of pictures as
Stanley Kubrick's Lolita and
Luc Besson's
Leon. We have a horny teenager. We have an adult that this teenager is trying to get. We have psycho-sexual tension in the air.
If you know me, you know that when I was a teen I tried to seduce a smokin' hot 42 year old lady. The character of
Gary Grimes Hermie from
Summer of '42 reminds me of myself back then. And the character of
Jennifer O'Neill Dorothy, reminds me of this smokin' hot 42 year old lady.
Spoiler alert, our 15 year old protagonist actually gets laid in the film. You can view it as creepy. You can view it as heart-breakingly depressing. I, for instance, feel envy. All I got was a touch. This motherfucker got what he wanted. But looking at it from the other perspective, thinking about how little this 15 year old knows about getting laid, made me realize we need more sex-education. Because those teenagers in this movie are cringe-worthy to look at.
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On the other hand though, knowing the spoiler, thanks to
@Troler, made me think about the whole affair in a slightly more open-minded way. The envy was over. I was focusing on the plot. I was focusing on the message. What was this movie trying to say?
So we have these two motherfuckers: Hermie and Oscy (
Jerry Houser ). There is technically a third motherfucker Benjie (
Oliver Conant ), but his character doesn't seem to be related much to the message of the film. Hermie and Oscy ( both 15 ) are horny out of their minds. They are scheming their way into sex. Oscy meets a girl about his age. Hermie is madly in love with that woman Dorothy.
Oscy actually gets laid first, with that girl he met. But based on the movie that doesn't work too satisfactory for him. Their "relationship" quickly breaks apart the morning after. And there seems to be little to no chemistry between them to begin with.
Contrast that to the relationship between Hermie and the adult Dorothy. He is scheming his way into her life, by helping her with a bunch of stuff here and there. His cock is so hard on her, that he lets her use him for all kinds of manual labor. And he is happy, because she is there. And she turns him the fuck on. He is obviously trying to pretend to be more adult than he is. Maybe thinking that this "maturity" will either impress Dorothy, or make her less against the possibility of being with him, or something. And so by the end of the film, he sort of distances himself from Oscy, as Oscy is still this juvenile looking teenager of a teenager. While he is a "man" now.
So he dresses up in grown-up clothes and walks over to her house one evening, just to discover a terrible tragedy. Somebody dear to her just died. She is sitting in her house all alone, weeping. Not in a mood for anything at all. This is the moment our Hermie realizes that getting laid should not be his top priority right now. He realizes that what he needs to do in this moment is to be the only person, probably, on the whole island, that can give Dorothy the emotional support that she needs right now. He realizes that he needs to become a man. A man she can cry on a shoulder of.
It just so happens to be, that to cope with this loss, Dorothy needs something a little stronger than just a mere hug.
Happy Hacking!!!
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