Mean Creek, the debut feature from Jacob Aaron Estes, was extremely well-received at Cannes and Sundance, and with good reason: Here is a low-budget production about troubled teens-and the consequences of a prank that slowly moves out of control-that works into something lyrical.
As the movie begins, Sam (Rory Culkin), presumably in the last year of junior high, is beaten down by the school bully, George (Josh Peck), a much larger boy who has been held back in school a number of times. Sam tells his girlfriend Millie and his older brother, Rocky, about the assault. Rocky then passes the story on to Clyde, who is quietly passive, and Marty, who is rebellious, aggressive and, it seems, doomed never to leave his small Oregon town.
All of them, Millie excepted, devise a plan of revenge against George. They invite George on a boating trip down the river, pretending it's Sam's birthday. As Marty says, "I say we smoke that ham."
The first real introduction of George, "the bully," comes right before the avenging group picks him up for the trip. He wanders around his bedroom filming himself and his possessions, then moves to other areas of the house, where he introduces his mom (she is entirely absorbed in her workout), and even his street, as Sam, Rocky, Clyde and Marty drive up.
In other words, George does not seem at all like a bully-only rather unhappy and self-conscious. He speaks in a somber tone, he films his mother without speaking a word to her and refers to his mind as something that nobody else will ever understand.
As he climbs into the car, he gives Sam a squirt gun as a birthday present, and Millie, who has also come along for the ride, doesn't seem to understand why George was ever invited to come along, despite what happened the day before. She also seems horribly apprehensive about what is about to unfold.
When they arrive at the river, Millie pulls Sam aside, threatening that if any plot against George is not stopped immediately, she will leave. Sam agrees to give it up, and so does the rest of the group-except Marty, who remains very intent on humiliating George. Marty, a victim of domestic violence from his abusive older brother, wants to reciprocate his pain onto George, and the film makes a compelling statement concerning the never ending cycle of abuse.
As they all go out on the lake in a boat, George desperately tries to "fit in" with the others. He talks about smoking cigarettes (he is clearly underage), what he knows about bugs and his graceful skills at beatboxing. It all tells a great deal about adolescent "masculinity;" the wish to impress and the need for acceptance. He is cocky and outspoken, though at a deeper level he comes up empty. He has never really fit in with anybody, as is evident in the fact that he agrees to go boating with peers who would so obviously be furious with him.
As predicted, Mean Creek becomes a tragedy, and the final third of the film is powerful in showing a harrowing picture of misery. As all the people involved in the plot try to cope with the events of the day, they begin to contemplate their futures, their families and whether today's secrets will ever fade away. Each character represents a different frame of adolescent mentality, ranging from unspoken horror to outspoken grief.
Despite its emotional weight, Mean Creek deserves more of an audience than it will attract on the art-house circuit. Here is an American indie dealing truthfully with abuse, the troubles of adolescence and revenge in a genre that usually avoids such weighty issues. It does al this, too, without pretension. It is poetic without the showiness, and wise without the preachiness.
The photography of the river is gorgeous-after all, it is set in Oregon-and the camera movements are restrained, leaving a great deal of work to the actors, all of whom are remarkable. Culkin is the only familiar face here, but all of them may be heading toward success.
So much of Mean Creek will linger in your mind. It may not be and entirely pleasant experience, but, as Estes would have to argue, that would be exactly the point.