Review

Review Date: 29-September-02
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Juicy

Igby Goes Down (2002)

Movies often begin with a shot of an airplane taking off or landing. This, as I learned in a screenwriting class, is a symbol of movement and change, a way of letting you know that what you are about to see — the discovery of love, the last big score, the death of a dream — represents a new era in the characters' lives. But in Igby Goes Down, the wonderful debut film by writer/director Burr Steers, the airplane doesn't take off until the end. What lies ahead is still a mystery; what matters more is that certain things have been left behind.

At first glance, Igby Slocumb (Kieran Culkin) looks like another rebellious urban teen conceived in the image of Holden Caulfield. The black sheep of a rich, New York family, he has been kicked out of numerous prep schools and condemned to a military academy by his perfectly manicured bitch of a mother, Mimi (Susan Sarandon). Mimi's severity with Igby is approved by his smug, capitalistic brother, Ollie (Ryan Phillippe), and his arrogant tycoon godfather, DH (Jeff Goldblum), who serves as the head of the family due to the incarceration of Igby's mentally ill father (Bill Pullman, mostly seen in flashbacks with young Igby, played by Rory Culkin). But we quickly discover, as Igby escapes the military school and sets out to free himself from the clutches of his family, that he is not another smarty-pants, jaded teen at odds with the hypocrisy of the adult world of wealth and privilege. Nor is he an overly wise prodigy at Life, frustrated by his superiority to the self-absorbed, shallow people around him. Instead, he is simply a nice, sensitive kid who has had the lifelong misfortune to be surrounded by cruel people, or, as he himself puts it, to be "drowning in ass-holes."

This refreshing take on the trials and tribulations of a young hero is what makes the movie work and provides its tension and urgency. Although Igby Goes Down contains thoroughly modern scenes of teen life (i.e., replete with drugs and sex), Igby's simplicity and sweetness prevent it from ever feeling hip or smarmy. This is not a story about how amusing dysfunctional families can be, how wealth is corruptive, or how young people need to rage against the machine to be real. It's a story about the consequences of meanness (by which I mean both "maliciousness" and "small-mindedness"). Throughout the film, we see examples of what someone in Igby's shoes could turn out to be: a cold, unfeeling wretch like his mother or brother, or a suicidal waste like his father and DH's mistress (Amanda Peet). On a less drastic level, we are also presented with an example of a well meaning rich kid (Igby's love interest Sookie, played by Claire Danes) who professes a desire to break free from a stifling, ego-driven environment but lacks the strength of character actually to do so. Seeing our hero turn to these people for comfort and coming up empty-handed, we want to rescue him both from being harmed by them and from becoming one of them.

Newcomer Steers has complete control over his movie, both as writer and director (this is the rare film that doesn't lose steam in the second half), but its success lies most of all with the utterly brilliant Culkin, who takes the battered Igby and makes him both believable and lovable. This is not an easy feat, for, as I said, the character is not meant to be particularly insightful, witty, or extraordinary as he flounders around smoking pot, failing school, and avoiding obligations. As rendered by Culkin, however, Igby is fully, gloriously, sympathetically human, displaying a wealth of attributes and emotions including anger, fragility, desperation, humor, compassion, innocence, sorrow, and hope. It's an exceptional performance (which will almost certainly land Igby Goes Down on my Top Ten List when the year is over). It's been a long time since I have cried for a character in a film without feeling manipulated or foolish, and an even longer time since I have wanted to hug someone so badly.

It makes sense that we don't see the plane taking off until the end; having gone down, the only way for Igby to go is up. The movie concludes with no clear notion of what will happen to him, and yet it is an entirely satisfying experience. Because we have shared in his trials, we feel as much as Igby the lightening of the load that has weighed down his whole young life. In the end all traces of Salinger's famous rebel are gone, replaced with echoes of Horace Greeley. Unlike Holden Caulfield, Igby is gratefully heading into the future, going west not only young but also free of a potentially debilitating past.

Copyright © 2002 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.