Short Term
12
(2013)
Destin
Daniel Cretton’s film, based on his experiences working in a group facility for
troubled teenagers, is an expansion of his 2009 short of the same name. Even
given the best of intentions, it would be very easy to misjudge the tone with
this kind of subject matter, leading to results so raw and heavy-going they are
difficult to endure or ones that over-indulge the opportunities for melodrama.
For the most part Cretton’s choices are astute and subtle. He opts for
underplaying and sensitivity where it would be easy to choose bombast and
preachiness. It’s only during the final act that he goes astray, succumbing to
the urge to inject several over-dramatic developments that slightly mar the
preceding fine character work.
Grace (Brie Larson, outstanding, but then so is every member of the
cast) is the supervisor at the titular home. Remarkably able and assured at
dealing with the residents, most of them victims of abuse, she is less capable in
coming to terms with and confronting her own past. This comes into sharp focus
when Jayden (Kaitlyn Dever, just as good here as she was in Justified) arrives, whose experiences
bear stark similarities to her own. The responses it triggers in Grace put her
at loggerheads with her boss Jack (Frantz Turner) and create tensions with boyfriend
Mason (John Gallagher Jr.), to whom she cannot open up. The pressures of an
unexpected pregnancy and her father’s imminent release from prison gradually
further push Grace to breaking point.
If this
sounds as if it might become overwrought, for the most part Cretton treads softly. Partly this is down to the restrained performances of
Larson and Gallagher Jr. Partly it’s because Cretton maintains a focus on the
day-to-day environment of the home. We experience the stories of other
residents including Marcus (Lakeith Lee Stanfield), fearful at the prospect of
leaving on turning 18, and new co-worker Nate (Rami Malek), who must balance
his natural instincts for empathy and friendship with the need to show reserve
and authority.
Cretton utilises
handheld camera throughout and, in contrast to many a director’s arbitrary
decision making in this regard, it’s the correct approach. Again, this is down
to the mediated approach the writer-director takes. He’s interested in creating
a feeling of immediacy and authenticity, but not so much that it unbalances his
goal. There can be little doubt that stories from such a facility could be
unbearable, and Cretton is no doubt aware of this. It’s surely why, for all the
trauma of the residents (and the workers) he is careful to imbue the
proceedings with a quiet optimism. This is a worthwhile and enormously valuable
occupation and service and Cretton is clear that it can make a difference,
however incremental. Joel P West’s score, occasionally putting me in mind of
the ambience of early Hal Hartley, also maintains a tone that refuses the
possibility of hopelessness winning out.
It’s where
his dual role script-writer hangs large that Cretton perhaps overplays his
hand. We aren’t talking about Dead Poets
Society levels of indulgence, but because the general tone is so stripped
down, anything that isn’t completely naturalistic translates as a over-cooked.
There are a couple of book-ended stories told by Mason that are perfect
examples of how to deliver clearly scripted dialogue. They have sense of actual
events retold, and Gallagher Jr.’s delivery enforces that. Cretton also achieves
an appealing symmetry with the “As it starts, so it continues” of the movie’s opening
and closing; no matter who goes through the doors of Short Term 12, there is
never any final resolution. But he stumbles with Jayden’s octopus story, so
calculated in its construction that it throws the viewer out of any appreciation
of its resonance. And Grace’s visit to Jayden’s father’s house is no less
unlikely for Jayden drawing attention to her behaviour (“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”)
Nevertheless,
taken as a whole this is an acutely well-observed, wonderfully performed and
achingly affecting picture. It will be interesting to see what Cretton does
next, as semi-autobiographical beginnings such as this don’t necessarily lend
themselves to career permanence, but on this evidence he has a powerful and
intimate voice.
****