At first it’s difficult to see how Thumbsucker is distinct from Donnie Darko, Garden State or any other indie film about alienated suburban youth. The movie has everything one would expect from a movie about a high school outcast: the inspirational teacher (Vince Vaughn), disorienting camera shots of suburban dystopia and Sundance Film Festival accolades. But stay patient, because Thumbsucker showcases acting that is brilliant in its simplicity.
Justin, the melancholy 17-year-old protagonist (Lou Pucci), can’t seem to quit sucking his thumb. Over the lullabies of Elliott Smith, the film chronicles Justin’s misadventures with romance, drugs (prescription and otherwise) and his strained relationship with his father, wonderfully played by Vincent D’Onofrio.
While some actors are lauded for tackling sensational roles, what’s remarkable about the characters in Thumbsucker is just how average they are. Star turns by Vaughn and Keanu Reeves as Justin’s dentist win laughs, but it’s the lesser-known players, such as D’Onofrio and Tilda Swinton, who garner an emotional reaction from the viewer. As Justin’s parents, D’Onofrio and Swinton don’t need to slam doors or throw cutlery to get the audience’s attention. A functional couple with a comfortable home, they instead offer a subtle reminder of just how lonely the American dream can be.
Thumbsucker presents an ambiguous message about drugs. After being diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, Justin becomes the star of the debate team on the strength of his prescription for Ritalin. He later quits the team and dabbles in smoking pot, all the while trying to ditch his embarrassing habit.
Watching Justin at a debate tournament feels like an ad for Ritalin, but ultimately his decision to quit the team is motivated by his suspicion that he is not being true to himself. When he reaches his pothead phase, the drug is portrayed by turns as a harmless mind-expander and as yet another substance distancing people from their true selves. Images of Justin getting high are flanked by more subtle forms of dependence in his mother’s addiction to TV and celebrity and his dentist’s reliance on bogus, New Age self-help theories.
Director Mike Mills compassionately probes the inner lives of his characters as if he were dissecting reflections of himself on a therapist’s couch. Instead of taking a linear approach to storytelling, he meanders through the quirks and insecurities of each character with great attention to detail. Lacking a formulaic plot or conflict, it is hard to predict how and when the story will climax, and viewers may be uncomfortable with this. The beauty of this method, however, is that it is true to life: unpredictable, at times hum-drum, but always honest.
Though at times the point seems obscure, the tribulations of Justin’s senior year of high school act as a roving path to the thoughtful message that it’s OK to be average. The movie is not railing against Ritalin, marijuana or even thumbsucking. The only thing it is criticizing is the compulsion to criticize oneself. Thumbsucker reminds the viewer that perfection is the only thing we have to fear. The movie poster says it best: Honk if you’re flawed.
