Thirteen
by
Howard Schumann
In
an opening scene, two giggling teenage girls get high, and slap each
other in the face until each draws blood. Thirteen introduces
us to the modern teenager where the idea of fun is light years away
from the days of Gidget, when all girls wanted was to have fun in the
surf. Directed by first-time filmmaker Catherine Hardwicke, Thirteen
was inspired by actual events in the life of co-author 13-year old Nikki
Reed and won the award for Best Director at the Sundance Film Festival.
The film takes us on the wildly careening path of two teenage girls
as they attempt to navigate a society, where the ultimate goal is, in
the author's words, to be "anybody to be somebody".
Shot
with a hand-held digital video camera in just over 26 days, Thirteen's
camera swoops and tilts to the girls every movement, conveying the image
of lives spinning out of control. Before we can get our bearings, Tracy
(Evan Rachel Wood) is transformed from a sweet and introspective straight-'A'
student to a trash-talking, manipulative follower after befriending
Evie (Nikki Reed), the hottest girl at Los Angeles' Portola Middle School.
When Tracy steals a woman's purse and goes on a shopping spree with
Evie, it is only the first step in the gradual disintegration of her
personality. Evie convinces Tracy and Melanie to let her move in with
them, claiming that the boyfriend of her guardian Brooke (Deborah Kara
Unger) beats her.
Tracy's
turnaround is shown in a rapid-fire succession of events: tongue and
belly button piercing, bare midriffs, makeup, experiments with drugs,
sex with cool black boys, and self-inflicted wounds to her arm with
razor blades. Tracy's family is concerned, but distracted by their own
personal issues. Melanie (Holly Hunter) is an ex-alcoholic who works
at home as a hairdresser and lives with her boyfriend Brady (Jeremy
Sisto), a recovering cocaine addict. The father is divorced and rarely
comes to see Tracy and her younger brother Mason (Brady Corbet) due
to business pressures. Holly Hunter is convincing as the well-intentioned
but naive mother whose idea of being a parent is to be her daughter's
pal. Even when she realizes something is very wrong, she fails to fully
comprehend what is going on around her. As Tracy begins to descend further
into her private darkness, Mel becomes more confused and her repeated
entreaties to Trace that "we have to seriously talk" end up
in screaming matches.
Thirteen
urgently explores young girls' vulnerability in a culture where they
are seen more as a commodity than for the totality of who they are,
and where their personal discovery is buried in a world of sex-drenched
advertising and exploitation. Although sex, drugs, and body modification
have been increasingly common with teenagers for years, the film, unfortunately,
ties together a litany of "taboo" behavior designed to instill
fear into parents, making no distinction between normal acting out and
serious behavioral problems. While Thirteen successfully puts
to rest the Hollywood stereotype of the polite and perky teen, in refusing
to provide more than a superficial understanding of Tracy's behavior,
it suggests a similarly false image of a helpless teen without a moral
compass, at the mercy of "bad influences." And by hinting
that there is no legitimate way for teenagers to express themselves
outside of accepted parental values, Thirteen is as shortsighted
as Maurice Chevalier's singing to Leslie Caron 45 years ago "thank
heaven for little girls, so helpless and appealing."
Evelyn, a film by the Australian
director Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy, Tender Mercies)
dramatizes the struggle of unemployed painter and decorator Desmond
Doyle (Pierce Brosnan) to regain custody of his three children after
they had been removed 
from
him and sent to Catholic orphanages. Loosely based on a true story and
a landmark case in the Supreme Court of Ireland, the film is set in
Dublin in 1953. As it opens, Doyle and his wife are celebrating Christmas
with their three children, Evelyn (Sophie Vavasseur), Dermot ((Niall
Beagan), and Maurice (Hugh McDonough). Doyle has recently lost his job
and spends his nights drinking at the local pub, circumstances that
lead to his wife taking off with another man for Australia the next
day.
Desmond
vows to take care of the children as best he can, but they are removed
by a judge who follows an Irish law that allows a court to remove children
from a household without means of support. Doyle promises that he will
raise money by singing at a local pub with his father (Frank Kelly)
after the court erroneously tells him that he can get his children back
if he shows enough income to support them. Dermot and Maurice are sent
to live with priests and Evelyn is taken to a Catholic orphanage. It
is here that the film veers off into questionable territory with an
exaggerated depiction of the really "good" Sister Felicity
(Karen Ardiff) and the really "bad" Sister Brigid (Andrea
Irvine), who slaps the little girl after she complains about the abuse
of another child in class.
To cope with her loneliness, Evelyn recalls the words of her grandfather
who told her that whenever she sees the rays of sunlight, a guardian
angel is looking after her (temporarily turning the film into an episode
of Touched By An Angel). Evelyn tells her dad about the incident
and he shows up at the orphanage threatening the nun with physical harm
if she ever again touches his daughter, an incident that 
later
comes back to plague him. On the recommendation of Bernadette (Julianna
Margulies), a local barmaid, Doyle hires her brother Michael Beattie
(Stephen Rea) as his lawyer and Beattie promptly tells him that family
law in Ireland is a conspiracy between church and state. Eventually,
two other lawyers are retained: Nick Barron (Aidan Quinn) and Tom Connelly
(Alan Bates), a retired rugby player, expert on family law, and all-around
eccentric with a reputation for taking on difficult cases.
Evelyn is a lightweight but charming film, enhanced by the performance
of the likable Pierce Brosnan and the wonderful Alan Bates. It's unfortunate,
however, that Beresford has to rely on jaded Irish clichés of
booze and blarney to enliven a story that is powerful enough to survive
on its own merits. Doyle does not need to be made into Saint Desmond,
and Sister Brigid does not have to become the Devil, for us to see the
unfairness of the law. Yet in spite of its flaws, you can't help but
root for the Capraesque quality of everyman Doyle and his fight for
human rights against an oppressive system.
©2003 Howard Schumann
CineScene
