BOY (2010)

Few filmmakers are as adept as Taika Waititi (Jojo Rabbit) at blending tones and genres in their works. Though he hasn’t proved a particularly consistent filmmaker as of late, in his second feature film, Boy, he strikes gold repeatedly throughout its brief runtime. Eponymous protagonist Boy (James Rolleston) and his brother Rocky (Te Aho Aho Eketone-Whitu) might have many comic moments onscreen. Still, it’s difficult not to view them both as tragic figures. The two brothers are in love with ghosts and visions that replace real people, whether that’s in Rocky spending much of his free time by his mother’s grave, who he never got to meet since his birth resulted in her death, or Boy witnessing his dad Alamein’s (Waititi) pathetic antics and seeing only a heroic figure of mythological proportions.

Given their dismal lives, maybe the brothers should spend their days dreaming about concepts of people they can’t fully understand. With their grandmother (Mavis Paenga) away for two weeks to attend a funeral, it’s Boy’s responsibility to look after his many siblings and cousins, all of whom are young kids forced to survive on scraps. He might not be the greatest custodian (as evidenced by the truly pathetic meal he scrounges up by slapping together white bread, milk and sugar into bowls), but in fairness, he has bigger concerns. Not only is he preoccupied with his undying love of Michael Jackson (Boy is set in 1984, two years after the King of Pop had released his album Thriller), but also the arrival of Alamein, who is eager to discover a bag of money that he’s certain he buried… well, somewhere. Without anywhere better to be, Alamein decides to try out being an active father for a while, taking Boy under his wing as the pair comb through a field to uncover what this protagonist thinks is buried treasure.

Though it may seem profoundly bleak, more often than not Boy is a comedy, and a brilliant one at that. It mightn’t cause raucous laughter, but there’s an endearing silliness here that’s intelligent enough to be unique and light in tone while escaping the clutches of a dire descriptor like ‘quirky.’ But what makes this film masterful isn’t just how effective its plot beats are, or how effortlessly the comedy and drama meld together, it’s the tenderness that unites these divergent tones and genres. Waititi has found a way to add warmth to a world rife with poverty and disaffectedness. But he goes a step forward, transporting us into Boy’s world without figuratively hovering over his shoulder and demanding that we recognise the tragedy of this character’s circumstances, which are all the more depressing given that he’s unaware of this. Rather than put us at a distance from this character by prioritising pity, across this deceptively complex tale, Boy’s worldview gradually converges with our own assessment of his home life, and an even more human tragedy unfolds.

Boy is told by a teacher that he has potential, a heart-warming scene that kicks sand over the embers of this idea once the teacher ignores Boy’s question about what that word even means. There’s a bigger question here regarding whether this protagonist can prosper within his precarious home environment. However, the film does well not to confront this dilemma in a sappy way. Waititi is wise to the fact that this question extends far beyond the movie’s short runtime and chronology. But in the context of what’s shown onscreen, perhaps it’s simply a matter of whether Boy can recognise the pitfalls of his environment. Maybe it’s only in doing that and unpacking the mythological state he happily renders his wayward father into, that this protagonist can come up with the necessary tools to carve out a better path for his future.

But that’s a far-off universe, even further removed from Boy’s starry-eyed dreams of watching Michael Jackson perform live, or going on an endless series of adventures with his impossibly brilliant dad. When he’s not busy daydreaming, he’s too concerned with the present moment to think of bigger narratives, patterns of behaviour, or dire financial straits. He’s more focused on chasing the wonder only a child can find in the everyday, as well as trying his damnedest to be a man. A young boy’s conception of manhood is often hilariously misguided and narrow-sighted, played here to comic perfection through this protagonist’s hopeless crush and pitiful attempts at conveying swagger. Alamein manages to be even more caricatural in his behaviour, a livewire who makes up for being the antithesis of dependable by thoroughly entertaining us and Boy.

This is a movie whose emotional power sneaks up on you, taps you on the shoulder and offers you a disarming scene to reckon with once you turn your head. The realisation that you care deeply about characters that more or less existed purely within a comedic light before this point hits hard and fast. But Boy never sacrifices its humour across the film’s runtime, even when dramatic notes become more and more prominent as it builds towards a heartfelt, painful conclusion. The child actors are all excellent, especially Rolleston playing the charming youngster at the heart of this movie, whose adoration of his father hampers his potential just as much as it ignites our sympathy. Like all young boys desperate to be men, he displays an enormous degree of pride around his peers. While it’s fun to laugh at him figuratively puffing out his chest whenever such an opportunity arises, Rolleston’s performance goes a long way towards preserving this protagonist’s dignity.

There are often scenes or jokes funny enough to exist on their own merits that wind up being teased out further into narrative threads, whether that entails some of the most impactful aspects of this plot or visual cues that are just as enjoyable and worthwhile. Then there are genuine curveballs hurled into this narrative, where one expects a quick resolution (or a particular conflict to emerge) from a series of events, only for the film to abandon this direction, then sneak up on you after some time has passed and hammer it home when it’s least expected.

Expert callbacks and a story never willing to settle for being rote are a supremely satisfying blend, especially with naturalistic child performances that feel more authentic the longer you spend time with these characters. It deepens your understanding of these wayward kids without ever turning them into mini-adults or stripping them of their dignity. Ensuring that these youngsters, like all children, are focused on the present, it makes the times they grow silent and look inward, sadly reflecting on their recent past or distant memories, all the more tragic.

Waititi is a severely underrated actor, often providing the greatest performances in his films. That’s no different here, where he wears Alamein’s faults and delusions plainly, yet somehow remains an endearing fuck-up. He’s a force of nature, but not so much a raging thunderstorm as an errant, light breeze that looks lost wherever it roams. There’s a sense of spontaneity and a lack of internal logic within him that’s always intriguing, making you wish he could be the stuff of legend that his son envisions him as.

Boy’s score is expertly curated, with The Phoenix Foundation providing the second of three soundtracks they composed for Waititi’s films (the others being 2007’s Eagle vs Shark and 2016’s Hunt for the Wilderpeople). Paired alongside music from other artists, this soundtrack is a curious one; the tracks aren’t significant on a retrospective listen, but they’re utilised perfectly in Boy. Without any exceptions, each song is amplified tenfold in its emotional power through careful and deliberate selection of where to insert it into this narrative.

A young boy observes his neglectful, idiotic, selfish dad and sees a heroic figure who can scoop him up in his arms and carry him towards a better life. An even younger boy spends almost all his free time testing out his alleged superpowers, wondering why he can never make buses crash or dead animals come to life, and how hhis only act of genuine magic was causing the death of the person he loves most, who doesn’t exist even as a memory to him. With these two kids as our conduits for this world, Boy should be a profoundly grim, upsetting movie. In one sense, it is, but it’s also tender, warm, hopeful, and hilarious, never straying from its pitch-perfect blend of tones and genres.

NEW ZEALAND | 2010 | 88 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • MAORI

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Taika Waititi.
starring: James Rolleston, Taika Waititi, Te Aho Aho Eketone-Whitu, Moerangi Tihore, Cherilee Martin, RickyLee Waipuka-Russell, Manihera Rangiuaia & Mavis Paenga.