Apathy and teen angst are standard fodder for indie films. And they often play out in coming-of-age movies where anti-social characters make sensitive observations seemingly far beyond their years.
This formula can work if the observations are wry and funny. Such is the case with The Art of Getting By. Though it doesn't fully resonate as a romance, it is effective as a character study.
Freddie Highmore, the best thing about this film, plays George, an isolated and fatalistic teenage geek who dodges schoolwork on the grounds that there's little point to it because he's only going to die someday. He explains to a teacher: "I just couldn't shake this awareness of my mortality." At least it beats "the dog ate my homework."
Originally titled Homework when it played at the Sundance Film Festival, the current vague title isn't much better at capturing the essence of the film.
The Art of Getting By deftly explores George's dark worldview. His friendship with the more popular Sally (Emma Roberts) has some moments of whimsy and truth. They may or may not be kindred spirits, but George's spirit is worth probing on its own.
The notion of a loner teenage boy connecting with one of the prettiest girls at school is one of those wish-fulfillment fantasies of filmmakers who may suffer from arrested development, or at least the desire to right the wrongs they experienced as overlooked high-schoolers.
George is descended from Rushmore's disaffected Max Fischer and the quirky Nick from Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Unfortunately, Highmore and Roberts don't have the chemistry of Michael Cera and Kat Dennings in Nick and Nora. But Highmore has graduated from the sweetly earnest little boy in Finding Neverland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to a complex young man as George dreamily listens to Leonard Cohen, proving he's an old soul and has depth with a capital D.
This formula can work if the observations are wry and funny. Such is the case with The Art of Getting By. Though it doesn't fully resonate as a romance, it is effective as a character study.
Freddie Highmore, the best thing about this film, plays George, an isolated and fatalistic teenage geek who dodges schoolwork on the grounds that there's little point to it because he's only going to die someday. He explains to a teacher: "I just couldn't shake this awareness of my mortality." At least it beats "the dog ate my homework."
Originally titled Homework when it played at the Sundance Film Festival, the current vague title isn't much better at capturing the essence of the film.
The notion of a loner teenage boy connecting with one of the prettiest girls at school is one of those wish-fulfillment fantasies of filmmakers who may suffer from arrested development, or at least the desire to right the wrongs they experienced as overlooked high-schoolers.
George is descended from Rushmore's disaffected Max Fischer and the quirky Nick from Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Unfortunately, Highmore and Roberts don't have the chemistry of Michael Cera and Kat Dennings in Nick and Nora. But Highmore has graduated from the sweetly earnest little boy in Finding Neverland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to a complex young man as George dreamily listens to Leonard Cohen, proving he's an old soul and has depth with a capital D.
