Is it possible to have adolescence without teen angst? My feeling is not. You could be the most prim and proper teen and exude the appearance of being calm and collective, while trying to hide the dread, anxiety or anguish that actually exists. A bad breakup, a death in the family, or a major test looming. No matter the concern there’s a certain level of angst that can go along with it.
Even the manner in which a child is raised has implications. A single-parent household is bound to play an integral role in how a child deals with certain issues, especially if the parent is ill-equipped to be a single mother or father.
Kat Candler’s narrative debut, Hellion, is a beautifully shot tale of teen angst set against the Gulf Coastal Plain region of Texas. Its small-town vibe gives the impression of isolationism, of a landscape where unbridled teens can run wild and cause mischief. In the case of Jacob (newcomer Josh Wiggins), the youngest kind of teen – a 13-year-old – this means biking around with friends with bats in hand, smashing vehicles and setting stuff on fire. The acting out is in accordance with other films dealing with young boys lashing out against parents and wanting to escape their downtrodden circumstances. Cinematically, François Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959) is pretty much the standard when it comes to young adolescence. Everything since plays like a version of Truffaut’s debut, which was inspired by his own childhood.
Because of this, Candler’s film feels like an assemblage of parts. You have Jacob who gets into trouble, and his tag-along little brother, Wes (Deke Garner), that bares witness to the damage his older sibling does. There’s also the paternal figure in Hollis (Aaron Paul), who did his best to kill himself Nicolas Cage/Leaving Las Vegas style – going on an alcoholic bender – after the death of his wife, Jacob’s mother. During a three-week absence both Jacob and Wes were cared by their aunt Pam (Juliette Lewis in a nice turn). Still wracked with grief, Hollis spends some of his days toiling around the old homestead in Galveston, fixing the damage caused by a storm, instead of being the father he should be.
Neither Jacob nor Hollis have the best of relationships. The lack of a motherly figure and wife has emotionally stunted both the son and the father. Upon vandalizing and setting fire to a pick-up in a school parking lot, Jacob gets one month of in-school suspension at a specialized venue. An easy stretch compared to those in juvie that don’t get to go home at the end of the day and sleep in their own beds. Jacob cares little of the disciplinary action; he’s more upset that his father has taken away his dirt bike, his favorite outlet to vent his rage.
Hollis loves his sons, but he doesn’t have the right tools to raise them right. Such admittance seems like an oxymoron of sorts. He has the tools to repair the damaged house but not mend the relationship with his eldest son. Leaving his sons to care for each other for large chunks during the day, in a domicile full of dirty dishes and empty beer cans in every room, Hollis absenteeism sees child protective service workers arrive and note the conditions. Consequentially, Wes is forcibly removed and left to the custody of his aunt.
Just as the title implies, Jacob is a disorderly, troublesome and rowdy child. And with each scene, starting with heavy metal to Jacob’s own appearance (a sleeveless Slayer t-shirt), Kat Candler builds upon his out of control spiral of juvenile delinquent behavior and the lack of a strong paternal figure in an effort for him to find that elusive meaning to his life, of adolescence. He believes winning a motocross event is the answer to reunite Wes with the family again. Shortsighted in his quest, Jacob fails to realize that there is no quick fix to mending broken relationships.
Candler also has the same problem (quick fixing, that is) during the climax where a secondary character seems to derail the proceedings, albeit briefly. It feels like such an out-of-left-field move that seems to only speed up Jacob’s journey to reach a justified conclusion.
Hellion is a good look at teen angst, lensed beautifully by Brett Pawlak who imbues the same naturalistic quality he brought to Short Term 12. The acting across the board is strong, led by Aaron Paul and Juliette Lewis. Having gotten as much mileage as one possibly can as a manufacturer or crystal meth on the superb Breaking Bad, Paul plays the Hollis character not with sternness but more as a sympathetic figure that audiences can relate. Lewis, more known for her white-trashy roles (think Natural Born Killers), gets a grounded character for a change and shines in her limited scenes. These two recognizable faces are good, but the true stars are newcomers Josh Wiggins and Deke Garner. Wiggins is much like Tye Sheridan (of Tree of Life and Mud fame), able to play the range of emotions required for his character and have them come across perfectly. Garner is also solid as the younger brother; he is the heart of the story as his removal by CPS motivates the characters around him.
Hellion is an okay film about teen angst that is elevated by the performances. It may not deviate much from the three-act playbook of similar-themed films, but Candler’s feature debut does just enough right to recommend, especially for those curious about Aaron Paul’s burgeoning career post-Breaking Bad.
Director: Kat Candler
Writer(s): Kat Candler
Notable Cast: Aaron Paul, Juliette Lewis, Josh Wiggins, Deke Garner
