Review: Beach Rats

Image courtesy of Neon.

Eliza Hittman's "Beach Rats" is anchored by a strong breakout performance by its lead, Harris Dickinson, and weakened - to an extent - by the story surrounding him. On the one hand, Hittman does a nice job of creating a dreamy atmosphere and capturing the unhurried aura of wayward youths with no direction. Both her previous film, "It Felt Like Love," and this new picture explore young characters in New York City who are facing some sort of sexual frustration.

And yet, "Beach Rats" doesn't really go anywhere we haven't gone before in other, better films. It's a film that I admire - for the performances and laconic vibe - without ever being completely drawn in by it. You can see where it's going from a mile away and you won't be shocked where it ends up.

As the film opens, Frankie (Dickinson) pals around with his three meathead buddies in Coney Island, where he lives, and chases after women on the boardwalk. But one can tell that he's not completely at ease with this lifestyle, especially after he takes a young woman, Simone (Madeline Weinstein) - with whom he'll have an on-again, off-again relationship throughout the course of the film - home with him and makes excuses for not sleeping with her.

When left to his own devices - and primarily in the dead of night - Frankie meets older men online and, on occasion, meets them in secluded places for hook-ups. He's not exactly gay, but his romantic relationships with women clearly take some work and self-convincing. When prompted to disclose what he wants by the men whom he meets, he frequently replies that he doesn't know what he wants - which comes as no surprise to virtually anybody - and that he doesn't "have a type."

To complicate matters, Frankie lives at home with his sister - who is just old enough to take an interest in boys, much to her brother's dismay - and mother after his father, who is seen wasting away during the film's early scenes, dies from cancer. Although Simone works a retail job, Frankie - and his friends - are seemingly unemployed and not in school. That his mother lectures him on his late-night habits and possible drug intake, but not on the fact that he has no job, is a curious touch.

The film is at its best when Frankie is juggling the make-believe persona that he puts on for his friends and Simone and who he actually is after hours. Unfortunately, "Beach Rats" takes a turn toward the obvious when Frankie suggests calling one of his hook-ups to buy weed and allows his buddies - who are completely unaware of his nighttime activities - to tag along.

Based on her two films, Hittman's subject matter of choice appears to be the challenges of discovering one's sexuality during the teenage years. Her movies remind me of a slightly kinder, gentler companion to those of Larry Clark ("Kids" and, to a lesser extent, "Bully" and "Ken Park"). Neither of her films left me completely convinced, but she does a fine job of capturing the indecisiveness of the age range that she is portraying. Dickinson's lived-in performance is the selling point of "Beach Rats," which is otherwise a mixed bag.