Mid90s Review
The year is 1995.
On the East Coast, a wild New York teen makes it his mission to deflower as many virgins as he possibly can. All while drinking, smoking, partying, and carrying the HIV virus.
On the West Coast, a young boy just entering his teens discovers skate culture and the laid back, yet potentially reckless hedonism that often accompanies the lifestyle.
The former story was the plot of the film Kids, released that same year. The latter is Jonah Hill’s Mid90s, a film that hit theaters this week, but captures the feel of the era so convincingly, you can’t tell which one was made first.
Both films can be considered coming-of-age stories, and both rely on the authenticity of non-actors to bring depth to the story; but for their handful of similarities, the two films are separated by decidedly different tones.
Kids feels more like a dark, haunting PSA. These kids are out of control. They’re cursing, they’re sometimes violent, they’re doing drugs, they’re sexually active, and worse even, they’re having unprotected, casual sex, and spreading fatal diseases. They can be your kids. A big city tends to speed up the aging process, and exposes children to a mature lifestyle they’re not emotionally prepared for. But there they are, acting with total abandon. Completely ignorant of the consequences. Or maybe it’s worse than that. Maybe they know the consequences and just don’t care.
Mid90s doesn’t operate in this space. For all it’s flirtations with adulthood, there remains a wholesomeness and innocence to the story of Stevie (Sunny Suljic) and his skater posse (who elevate the material with their authenticity).
Stevie is conflicted. And scared. He feels guilt. Rarely does he seem comfortable in this new world he’s thrust himself into. Coming from a broken home and a very sheltered suburban life, you can read the feelings of shock and awe on his face with every new experience. He’s in over his head. Deep down, he knows it. But by the same token, he also feels a sense of belonging and familial bonding that he can’t get at home. His skate crew doesn’t judge him. They encourage him to be his true self. To shed the guilt. To be fearless. To live a life.
It may not be the most original film you’ve ever seen, but few movies transcend their genre or make a cultural impact. This is a coming-of-age story that works safely within the rules of its assigned box and delivers a quality film.
It also doubles as a love letter to skate culture, old school hip hop, and the 90s era in general.
The first few minutes of the film aggressively reference just about anything and everything that comes to mind when you think about the 90s, but in a way that also feels real.
As a 30-year-old man who lives for 90s nostalgia, it’s nice to see a film in 2018 that feels like it could’ve been made in that actual decade. Even the way it was shot feels like a cheaply made 1990s indie.
It wasn’t done in a way that felt inorganic or inauthentic, like a handful of recent shows and movies that shamelessly try to court millennials with nothing more than a superficial level of 90s pulp.
This was made by someone who truly loves and respects the culture of the era, and it shows throughout.
It also shows that Jonah Hill is a competent, mindful director that sticks the landing in his directorial debut.