In the Simpsons season 7 episode 24, Abraham Simpson, Homer's father, tells his teenage son:
"I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and what's it seems weird and scary to me, and it'll happen to you, too."
It's a sobering, scary thought. As children grow older and the gap between generations begins to increase, what's in the here and now feels more alien and distant. Granted, people will still act upon their basic wants and needs - sex, companionship, living (or trying to live) with dignity - those things are not in doubt. The difference lies in the ways in which we act upon those things and the ways in which we react to those things. Our approach to interacting with others has changed compared to, say, a decade ago - sometimes in subtle ways, sometimes in profound ways.
The end credits for Erik Matti's latest film is a dedication to the filmmakers' children, and it is immediately clear to me that this is not an upper middle class youth film in the style of Gino Santos' early works, nor is it a wistful exploration of how the youth comes of age like in Glenn Barit's Cleaners. This film is Erik Matti's attempt at making a youth film - and through it, an attempt at understanding his childrens' generation. Although some of the characteristics of his generation leak onto the finished product, for the most part the film doesn't feel like it is an appropriation of youth culture, but rather an exploration of it. It helps that the film's screenwriters are part of the generation Matti is exploring, and with this film he surrounds himself with younger collaborators.
The film's narrative meanders from place to place, telling the stories of its titular two protagonists in little pieces. It isn't as structured as many are accustomed to, and in a way it works. There is no definitive beginning or end, just things that either peter out over time or end in figurative and emotional violence.
Marketing for the film may have you believe that these two will end up with each other romantically, but that doesn't really happen. They don't formally meet until the middle of the film and their paths diverge from there. The building of their friendship hits a roadblock in the second half, which also stands for a major shift in the story. In this second half, the two protagonists' lives are put on hold thanks to the pandemic. What felt like an ever-moving, dynamic lifestyle comes to a complete standstill. It is here, far from the first half's forced raunchiness, where things come into perspective and A Girl + A Guy comes into its own. It honestly feels like a completely different movie. The film becomes introspective, looking back at what now feels like a completely distant past.
The film's two protagonists are flawed human beings, but their life paths are different, the film treating their individual character development arcs in different ways. Arguably, it's the girl's story of self actualization that feels more fleshed out. With the guy, he aimlessly moves from hookup to hookup, screwing his way through life, until it doesn't work anymore. That in itself is okay (at least, it's a story that's been explored many times before), but there isn't a lot of follow through on the consequences of his actions. For example, a subplot regarding the ambiguities of sexual consent in certain situations is touched upon then unceremoniously dropped after the events of the second half, and the character doesn't think about it ever again. (One might think that this subplot is less about understanding the youth and more about the filmmaker trying to inject personal beliefs unto the work, but your interpretation is as good as mine.)
Perhaps the film would have been better served as a series, where there is more space for characters and plotlines to breathe, rather than be locked into a feature film format. With a streaming service like Upstream.ph, it's definitely doable. As it is, however, while I don't doubt A Girl + A Guy's sincerity, its many flaws prevent me from thoroughly enjoying it.
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