Movie review: Boyhood

Boyhood was shot over 12 years, allowing Ellar Coltrane to age in real time.

Films that follow a character for years are typically handicapped by the requirement to have two or more actors taking the role; even if the performances are not uneven, the suspension of disbelief required can be fatal.

The new film by the stylistically adventurous Linklater solves that problem in the boldest imaginable way: by choosing an actor and waiting for him to grow up. Shot over 12 years, a few days each year - the total shooting time was barely five weeks - it follows a Texas youngster Mason (Coltrane) from primary school to college.

It was a mammoth gamble both for Linklater and the producers, who agreed to finance a project with no prospect of return for 12 years, at the risk of collapse if a car ran a red light. And to say that the gamble paid off is an understatement. Boyhood is an exhilarating and enthralling masterwork, a landmark in American cinema and a celebration of what is means to move from boy to man.

Watching Coltrane's face change from angelic - in the opening shot, as he gazes at the sky, he resembles Scarlett Johansson - to the shy, sensitive and achingly handsome young man of the final scene is far from being the film's only, or even chief, pleasure. Remarkably, for a film about change over time, Boyhood holds us so tight in each scene, that the past and the future seem, sometimes frighteningly, remote.

In contrast to the standard coming-of-age trope in which a single childhood event creates the later adult, Boyhood suggests that we are all just the accretion of our pasts.

Linklater has made his name with zinger original films that unfold over a day (Slacker, Dazed and Confused) or less (the Before... series), but as this film's last line reminds us, nothing really ever exists except now.

Mason doesn't age alone. His older sister, Samantha (wonderfully played by Linklater's own daughter, Lorelei), starts out annoying him with Britney Spears impersonations but remains his staunchest ally as she shares his joy and pain. And the cast is anchored by Arquette, as Mason's mother, Olivia, and Hawke as his father, both of whom turn in compelling, career-best performances.

The latter two are separated from scene one - he's been in Alaska - and it's impressive how well they embody archetypes without ever becoming stereotypes.

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She's a hardscrabble solo mum determined to make a better life and not let her rage corrode her life or her kids' relationship with their dad; he's a slightly wastrel dreamer in a black Pontiac GTO - actually Linklater's own car - which has more than one dramatic function.

The film cuts from one year to another without warning - only those changing faces give us a clue - and many of the dramatic turning points (in particular the beginnings and ends of Olivia's two disastrous marriages) take place off-screen. As a result, though the film is long it seems to canter past, thanks to an editing style closer to that of television than film.

Add an entrancing soundtrack (more than 50 artists are credited) that mixes period pop with Linklater's own American-indie jukebox and you have a deeply satisfying film experience. This will sing to anyone who has been a boy - or for that matter, any other kind of human being. It is sure to be one of the best films of my year.

Cast:

Patricia Arquette, Ellar Coltrane, Lorelei Linklater, Ethan Hawke, Marco Perella, Jamie Howard, Andrew Villarreal

Director:

Richard Linklater

Running time:

164 mins

Rating

: M (violence, offensive language, drug use)

Verdict:

Enthralling masterwork and a landmark in American cinema

- TimeOut