THE GAP IN COMING OF AGE FILMS

THE GAP IN COMING OF AGE FILMS

By Trish Rooney

Growing up, going to my grandmother’s house meant two things: Wendy’s burgers, and The Sandlot on our car’s entertainment system. I loved The Sandlot. I literally knew every word, to the point where I could recite the whole script perfectly. The Sandlot follows a group of neighbourhood boys throughout the summer of 1964 as they play baseball and have their first kisses. It has a cutesy 60’s soundtrack, baseball, and a happy ending. What more could a girl want? My love for this movie hasn’t died, but I remember it being re-evaluated when I mentioned to a male friend how much I loved it, and other movies like it. He said, word for word, “I can’t believe you like boy movies”. I know, of course, that it’s not a boy movie. But it made me think about the movies that I grew up with and loved the most, and I found that they were all male-centric. The coming-of-age genre is one that predominantly features a rag-tag group of white boys, usually embarking on a summer adventure. Think The Goonies, Stand by Me, or, of course, The Sandlot. These films have reached cult classic status, but they only show one perspective of childhood: it’s straight, it’s white, and it’s male. People of colour are either in the background, scary old men, or not included at all. If I, as a girl, was reflected, it was as the annoying little sister, the sexy older girl the boys all pined for, or a doting mother. I can’t remember seeing an out and proud queer character or a woman of colour included in the genre that I loved so much. Representation in the media means that we get to see people like us, living like us. However, if we’re never seen beyond love interests, quirky side characters, or at all, it means that other

people will view women, people of colour, or LGBT people as abnormal characters in the straight, white, male world we see around us. It is about recognizing that not all growing up experiences look the same, even if they lead to the same conclusion. Recently, production companies have realized that people really like seeing themselves as more than background characters or love interests. Queer screenwriters, screenwriters of colour, and female screenwriters have also built out spaces for themselves in the industry. Lady Bird follows its main character through her last year of high school and her ever-changing relationship with her mother as she reaches adulthood. Love, Simon explores a closeted high schooler’s journey of coming out and falling in love for the first time. Moonlight follows the experiences of a queer black man, from his early years of exploring his sexuality within the black community, to his adult life after he is released from prison. Even Boyhood, a film about a straight white boy, changed the genre in its format of following the lead as he grows up. Instead of it being a snapshot in time, it shows that coming of age doesn’t really stop after one summer, it follows us throughout our lives. The overall point of coming of age movies is that we relate to them regardless of who’s on screen. However, if we are only ever seen as side characters, it makes us believe we are. We need more diversity on screen because it shows us that we’re all more similar than we think, that life is crazy for all of us, and that growing up is always easier with a group of friends to meet on the baseball diamond—even if they’re just on a screen.