A lanky, curly headed boy stands in front of a modest one-story home. The goof wears a horse graphic t-shirt tucked into denim jeans with no belt and peers through clear-lensed aviator glasses, eyes half closed, mouth wide open. He boards the school bus and saunters to the very last row, towering over the other students, all of whom are significantly younger. A fellow student asks, “What are you going to do today Napoleon?” to which he snaps “Whatever I feel like I want to do. Gosh!” A sharp retort that is both comic in its delivery and charged with underlying anxiety. It is evident from merely a few seconds on the bus that the titular character of Jared Hess’ 2004 high school comedy, Napoleon Dynamite, is troubled. It serves as the first of many clever, oftentimes ridiculous, scenarios in which the qualms of an outcast riddled with angst, uncertain of his identity as a high school student, and his place in the world at large are carefully explored.
Each element of the film plays into an uncomfortable and unpredictable mood, while servicing the aesthetic of a rural town stuck twenty years in the past. We follow Napoleon through a day at Preston High School. Bullies shove him into lockers, he delivers a current events report on the Loch Ness monster, he plays tether ball alone, and he calls his adult brother Kip to ask for Chapstick. A day which is at once absurd and banal, yet riveting; while no particular event directly progresses the plot, we slowly become acquainted with the questions and inner machinations of Napoleon’s mind. The sense of everything being oddly ordinary yet intriguing, as well as the slow-burn character development through unremarkable events is not unique to the opening scene, and only ramps up throughout the remainder of the film.
In terms of execution, a synth-heavy original soundtrack, along with the inclusion of some classic ‘80s tunes, pair perfectly with the plot, setting, and costume design. Further, keen attention to audio aids in placing the viewer; flies audibly buzz past and cows bellow in the background.
Jon Heder’s role as Napoleon is undeniably brilliant, but he is surrounded by other notable performers. Each delivers keen facial expressions and perfectly timed delivery; in my mind, there is no role which could have been cast or performed any better. Beyond that, there is a patience to every encounter which results in expert pacing. No moment feels rushed and pauses between dialogue are often drawn out, further lending to a curated sense of uncertainty and immaturity. Each interaction holds meaning, revealing new aspects of characters’ desires and insecurities. These are conveyed with a familiar clumsiness which hearkens to the often repressed memories of youth’s struggles.
It is in this essence of adolescence, so expertly captured, in which the film begins to transcend its perceived place as a quirky, but superficial high school comedy. Every character, from Napoleon’s dare-devil grandmother to his friend Deb, reveals complex and base desires. There is nobody with more wisdom than anyone else; each character is portrayed as impulsive and elementary. Each character also grapples with questions of identity: who do they believe they are and who do they want to be? Napoleon’s grandmother goes for trips to the sand dunes with a secret boyfriend, while Uncle Rico can’t stop thinking about 1982 and what could have been. These troubles, often typical of high school, seep into the lives of every character.
This idea of an uncertain identity is infinitely relatable, seeing as such questions can never be definitively answered. Everybody is portrayed with the same confusion and infantile nature as a high school student; there is little discernible difference in maturity and authority between your eldest and youngest, most significant and most minor characters. They are all flawed and insecure.
The film’s complexity does not end with this universal infantilization. Hess also grapples with complex issues of class, custom, and gender in unique and interesting ways. Pedro, Napoleon’s new classmate and friend from México, is derided by the school’s principal for failing to understand his instructions. Further into the film Pedro is again brutally chastised for bashing a piñata in the likeness of another student, something he claims is customary in his native country; an intentionally ridiculous and comic scene, but even so it is a moment which highlights cultural differences and the principal’s blatant ignorance. Later, Napoleon’s sleazy uncle preys on his nephew’s high school classmates and attempts to sell them breast enhancement supplements, alienating young women and exposing Napoleon to further disdain. These only serve as a few examples of the more profound questions and issues which cleverly find their way into the film.
A deceptively deep film which at once brims with excitement and dread. It did not have me laughing out loud, but instead smiling throughout. Each moment is not demarcated by exciting action, place, or dialogue, yet there is a charm and a familiarity to its composition which requires nothing of the sort. And while any realistic depiction of high school, and life for that matter, is full of plenty of sorrow, Napoleon Dynamite finishes in a moment of triumph, with each character feeling secure in their identity, at least for a moment. Pedro has won the class election, Napoleon has danced his heart out to tremendous applause, Kip has a girlfriend, and Napoleon finally has a partner to play tether ball with.
One of my favorite films of all time... Great perspective and insights from former Hopkins Water Polo player Andres White.
Posted by: HopkinsSoCal | September 17, 2020 at 06:30 PM