The Diary of a Teenage Girl movie review (2015)
In a less complex film, Monroe would be portrayed as a skeevy creep with no redeeming qualities. But Skarsgård, a tremendously appealing actor, destabilizes that by bringing a sweetness to Monroe, and an almost childlike dissatisfaction with his life, all of which gets focused on the eager Minnie who latches onto him like a barnacle. The relationship is, of course, hugely imbalanced, manipulative on both sides, and emotionally explosive. Monroe's behavior is, indeed, gross. For Minnie, the revelation that someone desires her almost literally blows her mind.
Heller and cinematographer Brandon Trost create a gauzy golden-ish look, calling to mind faded photo albums, the mustard-yellows and pale-denim-blues of that era. The period is suggested, rather than fetishized. The music is atmospheric as opposed to a ready-made soundtrack, tunes coming out of jukeboxes, off record players, Minnie and her best friend jumping on the bed screaming along to The Stooges and drooling over a poster of Iggy Pop. Minnie wants to be an artist, and is obsessed with the gigantic Amazon women populating the comics of Aline Kominsky-Crumb. Minnie dreams of clumping through the streets of San Francisco, towering over the buildings, a Crumb-comic come to life. Animated images unfurl around the action throughout the film: drawings come to life, little flowers burst into blossom around Minnie's head when she's happy, a sketch of Monroe starts to talk to her in a heartfelt way. The animation was done by the talented Sara Gunnarsdóttir, and, similar to 2013's "The Motel Life," helps evoke the overheated emotions and sometimes delusional mindset of the protagonist.
"Diary of a Teenage Girl" unravels slightly in its final sequences, featuring a couple of tangents that don't pour into the overall focus of the rest of the film. For the most part, though, "Diary of a Teenage Girl" is true to itself and its intentions. The characters are not betrayed by the plot, and vice versa.
There are other films that have looked at coming-of-age from the girl's side of things. William Inge's plays and screenplays in the 1950s, fraught with repressed desire and terror of being labeled a "bad girl", were all about that. "Welcome to the Dollhouse" is in this realm, as are the films of Francois Ozon and Céline Sciamma. Nancy Savoca's "Dogfight" places the emotional and sexual journey of Rose (Lili Taylor) on equal footing with that of Birdlace (River Phoenix), thereby avoiding the tiresome and sentimental manic-pixie-dream-girl formula. "Little Darlings," as silly as some of it was, took the sexual urges of teenage girls seriously, adding unpredictable elements of sharp poignancy. "Little Darlings" is kind to girls who want to have sex and to say that that is not usually the case is to understate the situation. When teenage girls exploring their sexuality and enjoying it (like boys do) is seen as radical, or disturbing, or gross, then there is an urgent need for films like "Diary of a Teenage Girl."
