In John Cassavetes’s 1977 psychological drama “Opening Night,” star Gena Rowlands laments, “When I was 17, I…I could do anything. It was so easy. My emotions were so close to the surface.” It’s in this soil of raw, intense teenage emotional honesty that director Josephine Decker firmly plants her adaption of Jandy Nelson’s YA novel “The Sky Is Everywhere.” In both films, artists lose touch with their craft while reeling from a sudden, expected death that shakes them to their core, though one tackles this trauma with a much lighter, rosier touch.
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Everything in the world of musical prodigy, Lennie Walker (Grace Kaufman), is heightened. As a sensitive artist, her inclination is already geared towards the hyper-romantic (she’s read “Wuthering Heights” at least twenty times), but growing up running wild with her big sister, Bailey (Havana Rose Liu), in the thousand-year-old redwoods of “California’s Enchanted Forest” adds to her storybook sensibilities. Decker leans into this fairytale existence with extensive use of narration as Lennie recalls, “Last summer, I learned that the most terrible thing you can imagine can happen at any time.” This worst thing? The death of her big sister from an arrhythmia during a rehearsal of “Romeo and Juliet.”
Returning to school that Fall, the once conservatory-bound clarinetist shares, “There was no more music in me. Not one note.” She finds no solace with her pot-smoking drop-out uncle, Big Walker (Jason Segel), or her flighty painter grandmother, Gram (Cherry Jones). This isolation leads her into the arms of her sister’s mourning boyfriend, Toby (Pico Alexander), whom Lennie feels is the only person occupying the same house of grief as her. Like many teenagers, she is the center of her own world and this selfishness is intensified by her grief. She doesn’t see how Big and Gram are also wrapped in their own bereavement, how they might need her as much as she needs them.
In true YA fashion, Lennie also lusts for the new kid at school. Multi-instrumentalist Joe Fontaine (Jacques Colimon) is so talented and so suave his music comes to life as notes that float down the hallway, knocking down swooning girls along the way. Through Kaufman’s tender, naturalistic performance, Decker elevates the trite trappings of a teenage love triangle to mine truth from turmoil born of a sexual awakening draped in the grief of losing a loved one.
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Decker also taps into these tumultuous emotions through the film’s verdant setting. Along with the ancient redwoods, nature is everywhere. Gram grows seemingly magic roses of pink and red and peach. Birds are always chirping. The house, the garden furniture, Gram’s art studio are all made of weathered, cottage-core style wood. Even the color scheme of the school is jewel-tone blue-greens and marigold.
Cinematographer Ava Berkofsky crafts dreamy fantasmagorical imagery to match the fairytale inside Lennie’s head. Her camera work fluidly flows through the forest as Lennie remembers her erstwhile adventures with her sister. Occasionally, the sets themselves become operatic. A faux red sun moves like a set-piece, a paper cloud bears rain down on a crying Gram, the roses turn into dancers as Joe and Lennie lay in the grass listening to Brandenburg concertos. This flashy camerawork calls attention to the artificiality of Lennie’s inner world. Unfortunately, after a while these flights of fancy and nonstop whimsy become overbearing, stripping the poignancy from Lennie’s emotional journey.
This journey of personal growth is also encumbered by numerous cliches of the genre. Ji-young Yoo is wasted as Sarah, Lennie’s alt-cool best friend who serves mostly to pick Lennie back up when she falls apart, even after being treated terribly by her. The same goes for Julia Schlaepfer as Rachel, the mean girl who desperately wants to take Lennie’s spot as first chair clarinet and mostly shows no empathy towards her recent loss. Kaufman’s scenes with both Joe and Toby play a bit better due to their chemistry. But as this story arc barrels towards its inevitable conclusion the triangle becomes treacly. If only the film could stay focused on her music.
Where the teenage drama trappings weigh the film down, it soars while exploring her struggle to get her musical groove back. She had planned to apply to Juilliard with her sister, so when we meet Lennie, this dream, along with her verve for music has been buried too. Decker visualizes this love of music throughout, with one standout scene featuring Lennie playing a duet with Joe. As the joy of their art flows through them, they float higher and higher into the air. More of this, please!
While ‘The Sky Is Everywhere’ can’t quite shed its YA origins, the tropes of the genre are expertly manicured by Decker’s prowess for striking imagery until they glow with a sleek art house patina. The story beats are predictable, but Decker forges her own unruly and unforgettable path through them, crafting a teen film with avant-garde flourishes that attempt to find a balance between style and substance. [B-]
“The Sky is Everywhere” debuts in select theaters and Apple TV+ on February 11.