This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon: August 8, 2008 - “American Teen,” which opened in St. Louis Friday, is a movie about a handful of teenagers in their senior year of high school in Warsaw, Ind. The school, the town, the students are all “real,” i.e., not fictional creations, so I guess that makes the film a documentary. But the film is so eager to please, so determined to present a particular image of how teenagers behave, that it ultimately seems contrived, calculated and more than a little phony. How real is that?
Over the course of the school year, you get to know five of the students fairly well: the basketball player who’s under pressure to get an athletic scholarship; the artsy, rebellious girl who wants to get as far away from Warsaw as possible; the reclusive, nerdy videogame geek; the much-admired jock who surprises himself by dating, briefly, a girl out of his social caste; and the privileged girl who’s used to having everything go her way. If these sound like obviously superficial teenage stereotypes, it’s intentional.
The film clearly labels them “The Jock,” “The Geek,” “The Princess,” “The Rebel” and “The Heartthrob,” even illustrating them with animated sequences. (And on the film’s Facebook page, you can even download tags identifying yourself with one of those labels. Or, if those don’t quite fit your self-image, you can choose “Emo,” “Goth,” “Gossip” or “Slut.”) In other words, it’s a case of life imitating a John Hughes movie (as this poster makes clear).
As “American Teen” progresses, director Nanette Burstein, previously involved with such high-profile documentaries as “On the Ropes” and “The Kid Stays in the Picture,” lets us see the small, personal dramas that pass for ordinary teenage life in a small town: romances, breakups, rivalries, college recruiting and, inevitably, the senior prom. The film is intimate, the principals are attractive and engaging, but the overall effect is as contrived and manipulative of an episode of “The Real World” or “The Simple Life.”
The question of authenticity inevitably comes up any time a film appears to be showing real, objective events. Did the filmmakers alter or stage anything, or influence the subjects simply by being around? Frederick Wiseman, arguably the greatest documentary filmmaker alive, spends weeks on a location before he actually starts shooting to accustom participants to the presence of cameras. Albert Maysles, vérité giant, carefully edits out anything that suggests complicity between filmmaker and subject.
“American Teen” chooses not to follow the anonymity of a Wiseman or a Maysles but revels instead in the false sense of intimacy typical of reality television. The students are very aware not only of being under pressure to prepare their adult lives but also of having to justify their behavior for an ever-present camera. (But would a freshman who’s about to have a swimming date with someone other than her boyfriend really share the illicit text-massage invite with the filmmakers, allow them to film the encounter and have them film her denial of the event later?)
Though the film uses the school year to provide a narrative structure, there’s little emphasis on homework or education, hardly any interaction with teachers. And though many things happen to the five central characters over the school year, there’s also an awful lot of time for TV-style introspection, much of it centered on the stereotypical roles they’ve been assigned (and that they willingly accept). They’re selling an image, whether it’s one they’ve adopted on their own or one imposed by the film. It doesn’t seem to bother them that they’re conforming to roles every bit as generic as the film’s own title.
But wait a minute: Wasn’t the point of “The Breakfast Club” that the five students learned to see past their silly stereotyped labels? Hey, no biggie. Cool poster though, huh?