Two men in an open field; one stands proudly wearing an unbuttoned shirt and white pants while holding a camera, and the other sits casually in the grass, wearing a brown jacket and denim shorts, with a drink in hand.

For my fellow millennials and zillenials, you probably remember the sheer, idiodic brilliance that was Jackass on MTV. Created by Johnny Knoxville, Spike Jonze, and Jeff Tremaine, it followed a group of hyper-masculine men pulling ridiculous “stunts” whose purpose was to watch each other get terribly hurt. It was chaotic, stupid, and ridiculously fun. But swap out seasoned chaos agents for a group of reckless, wannabe stuntment, and suddenly the jokes crumble. In that uneasy territory is seen in Dempsey Bryk poignant coming of age dramedy, Crash Land.

Lance (Gabriel LaBelle, Saturday Night), Clay (Noah Parker, The Voyeurs), Darby (Billy Bryk, Friendship), and Sander (Finn Wolfhard, Stranger Things) have spent their childhoods drinking, wreaking havoc, and filming crude stunts in their small town. Everyone hates them as they cause nothing but disturbance and destruction. Wanting to finally prove their lives have meaning, the boys set out to make a “real movie” and in the process they are forced to confront emotions and experiences they have never considered before: love, loss, and ultimately, what it means to grow up.

Bryk could have taken this narrative in a dozen of different directions. He could have leaned hard into the Jackass-style homage, stuffing the film with one absurd stunt after another. Or he could have paid homage to Richard Linklater by creating a meandering, vibes-first hangout film. But, Bryk chooses to thread the needle in between the two inspirations. Though the story may feel a little bit cliched, there is enough heart and chaos that makes this film feel like a generational defining coming-of-age dramedy.

This closely knitted friend group, The Musketeers, are not making these stunt videos because they want to be stuntmen, despite saying otherwise. They make them because it is the only thing that gives their mundane lives any meaning. Economically, educationally, and socially they have no prospects in their rural Ontario home, unless they leave. But leaving is its own kind of nightmare because this means leaving the only constant they have had in their lives. Which is their friendship. 

Then when one of their stunts goes sideways which results with one of their own dying, they promise to make a “real” film to honor their fallen comrade. But as they stumble their way through this film, which may include some stolen guns and a real car chase. They are forced to confront the slow, uncomfortable reality of growing up. They realize that friendships aren’t permanent fixtures. Friendships are seasonal, fragile and are in a constant state of evolution. And this reality terrifies the group as they believe that it cheapens their friendship when it actually strengthens it. 

First time director, Dempsey Bryk shoots his film with a real sense of intimacy, both in how the camera moves and how the characters are drawn. The cinematography has this loose, almost documentary style feel to it as every frame uses natural lighting and handheld camera word. Where it feels like you are not watching this story, but watching this group of kids actually try to make something of their own. Which gives the film a raw, lived-in feel to it that makes it feel honest. 

What further adds to the film’s honesty is the performances from the ensemble cast as every actor locks into that specific, fragile moment of where you are caught between who you are and who you are supposed to become. Gabrielle LaBelle leans all the way into the “refuses to grow up” manchild archetype, but gives it enough charm that you understand why everyone keeps him around. Noah Parker nails that restless, in-between energy of someone who knows they need to move forward but can’t quite pry themselves loose from home. Finn Wolfhard, meanwhile, goes full oddball as Sander, bringing a slightly unhinged edge to the group dynamic with his pink robe and his tighty-whities. And Abby Quinn (Little Women) as Gemma acts as the grounding force in this group’s friendship,  who recognizes that friendships, no matter how formative they are, aren’t built to last forever.

Overall, Crash Land is a film that quietly sneaks up on you. What starts off as something scrappy and chaotic quietly reveals itself to be an affectionate coming-of-age dramedy about growing pains no one really prepares you for. Crash Land understands that getting older isn’t some kind of grand, cinematic moment. It’s a messy, uneven, and often unpleasant experience that happens whether you are ready or not. And in that honesty, Bryke delivers a dramedy that is honest, poignant, and will define a new generation. 

My Rating: A-

Crash Land is currently seeking distribution.

Leave a Reply

Trending

Discover more from The Celluloid Correspondent

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading