Eighth Grade focuses on thirteen-year old Kayla before she transitions into high school. Her public, social media persona contrasts severely with her real life personality. Her cell phone connects her to the world—it is her means of communication, her soundtrack, her encyclopedia and an extension of her self, but as she reflects on her younger self’s hopes for the future, her faith in her self falters, and she has to navigate unfamiliar territory and what she wants for herself.
Eighth Grade was heavily promoted in my region with frequent previews shown in a couple of my favorite theaters. It also had such an extended theatrical run that it was still playing when I saw it on DVD in October. I decided not to see it in theaters because I was a girl in eighth grade. I’m not one of those people who miss being a kid, but if I’m being honest, seventh grade was worse. I could have been persuaded to see it because it was showing at my favorite theater with the real butter popcorn, but no one else felt drawn enough to the movie to sway me. The only reason that I decided to see it on DVD was because I saw The Daily Show’s Trevor Noah interview Bo Burnham, the director, whom I am unfamiliar with, and he was engaging.
Eighth Grade was a distinctly unique depiction because it actually felt as if the protagonist was in eighth grade (she was). Like Charlie Brown, adults are on the border or out of focus. The movie’s soundtrack is actually what Kayla is listening to. Getting her audible point of view and occasionally her visual point of view, a sea of images, is reminiscent of Ingrid Goes West, but more organic and less compulsive though equally sad and lonely. The movie uses more conventional filming techniques such as using slow motion to indicate her interest in a boy.
Even though a man wrote and directed Eighth Grade, it did not feel like it. He nails capturing Kayla’s awkwardness by showing it. She is still a kid, and while there are attempts to socially acceptably sexualize her, it hasn’t taken root unlike her classmates. During a pool party, she is in a one piece whereas the other girls are in bikinis and wearing makeup. Her narrative is dominated by her quest to desperately try and frequently fail at finding her people and figuring out how to get people to notice her. When she sees something wrong, she dives inward whereas other kids call out the mistake. She is her hardest critic, and her world is already a fairly cold and largely unwelcoming place. The palpable and consistent awkwardness in her journey is what makes this film unwatchable, not because it isn’t effectively and credibly done, but because second hand embarrassment is my equivalent of a horror movie for other people. I just want to talk to the screen and coach the character, but it is often good that I did not because some of her best experiences come from her inexperience and enthusiasm so she cannot maintain her cool and dives into joy at the first opportunity.
Her journey is interrupted by other people’s self-interested agenda to abruptly sexualize her. The moment never seems endemic to the context or a natural, gradual sexual awakening, but an unwelcome interruption, which makes her have to improvise, and Kayla is not good at improvising. Her single dad raises her so one could extrapolate that she never got the speech about not confusing sex for attention or love so she has to figure it out with the Internet as her guide. The potential for things not only to go seriously wrong, but damaging and awful is fraught throughout the film. She is trying to go with the flow while also figuring out her boundaries, but life comes at her quickly. When she unwittingly falls into pitfalls, as a viewer, you see it coming, but she has no point of reference for what is happening. There are no women in her life, and she does not have enough friends for these issues to come up. She could not know better. Viewers will find themselves rooting for her and being scared for her.
I recently saw Outsourced and enjoyed Josh Hamilton’s performance in that movie. Although I’ve seen him in plenty of movies (Kicking and Screaming, The House of Yes, Broken English, Away We Go, J. Edgar, Frances Ha, Dark Skies, The Experimenter, Manchester by the Sea, The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected), I’ve only recently begun to remember him because of his largely distinctive sensitive and understated performances. He does his job too well that you forget that he is on the clock. Because I am a certain age, I related more to his character’s story, Kayla’s father, than Kayla’s and wanted to know more about his character even though Eighth Grade was not wrong for limiting his role in the movie. It is just another explanation regarding why I didn’t initially find this movie appealing. It is simply a matter of different tastes. I was so annoyed that Kayla treated him just like the mean girls at her school treated her, and he was trying so hard to be affirming and loving with little to no reward. Also he is basically her emotional punching bag whenever she had a bad experience, and he rarely deserved it. He is a great example of what a good father should be.
By the denouement, I could completely relate to him and see what he always saw in her as Eighth Grade teases what kind of young woman she will become instead of dismissing his praise as obligatory parenting. In spite of being an excruciating witness to her growing pains, the end feels really rewarding, and I will say that I agree that cold nuggets are better than warm.
I’m really glad that I didn’t see Eighth Grade in the theater even though it is probably best seen that way because a viewer would be completely immersed in Kayla’s experiences, but I never wanted it. I have plenty of my own mortifying awkwardness. If you’re like me and can’t handle second hand embarrassment, skip this movie, but if you are intrigued by all the praise that Burnham is getting for his cinema verite style, then definitely check it out. If you prefer a more polished and conventional narrative, you should probably run the other way.