ART OF THE BEAT
Zac Efron stars as a DJ
Maybe I’m getting old and cranky, but I like my fictional characters to earn their redemption moments. We Are Your Friends, a fictional tale of a DJ on the rise that fancies itself as Straight Outta the San Fernando Valley, gives us a protagonist whose easy, laid-back existence gets even more so following the untimely death of a friend.
The man at the centre of the story is Cole, played by professional hunk Zac Efron, who when he turns 30 in a couple of years had better start acting his age. Right now, his character is still generic low-end-of-20-something, living in a pool house next to an empty pool. There are vague parental figures in the background, as important to the plot as those trombones that look after the Peanuts gang.
Speaking of nuts, Cole’s bag of mixed ones includes Mason (Jonny Weston), Ollie (Shiloh Fernandez) and, of course, Squirrel (Alex Shaffer). The kids can’t seem to catch a break, not helped by the fact they don’t know what they want to do with their lives, other than eat California stripmall sushi. Only Cole, who lives to DJ, has a larger passion.
He soon acquires another. After meeting James, an older DJ (i.e., over 29 and played by Wes Bentley), Cole falls into a complicated mentor/protégé relationship. But it’s James’s girlfriend, Sophie, played by younger-Katie-Holmes look-alike Emily Ratajkowski, who really turns Cole’s head.
I mean that literally. Cole is compelled to turn and look at any girl he passes in the street or on the dance floor. His ability to swivel his noggin and scan the environment is admirable. Unfortunately, it’s also what passes for acting range in this movie. (Also, is there a rule in Hollywood that says Efron has to be filmed showering in at least one scene?)
“Imitation is suicide,” James tells Cole, quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson but apparently unaware of the irony of choosing that particular maxim to repeat verbatim. Meanwhile, in between learning at the feet of the master and admiring the legs of the master’s girlfriend, Cole gets a day job working for a shady realtor (Jon Bernthal), whose specialty is buying foreclosed properties at bargain-basement prices then renting them back to their former owners. Mason, Ollie and Squirrel join him because that’s what entourages do, and heaven forbid they be given their own dramatic arcs.
There are two nice ingredients in this mélange, co-written by director Max Joseph. In one, Cole explains the science of the DJ’s art: how certain elements in the music’s beat resonate with different regions of the body; the patience required to wait for the rhythm to take hold over the crowd; and the delicate, Jengatower nudging needed to play the audience like a finely tuned violin.
In the other, Cole puts all this knowledge and more to use, crafting a rocking beat out of found sounds and life lessons learned. The only trouble is the sounds are mere windfalls, apples that could have knocked any young DJ on the skull. And the life lessons are just as arbitrary.
The most elemental shape in drama is the triangle. Though to be fair, one can construct a gripping story with only two points, connected by a line. Such was the case with Robert C. O’Brien’s posthumously published 1974 novel Z For Zachariah, which took the form of the diary of a 16-year-old girl and nuclear holocaust survivor.
In the book, Ann is living in a verdant valley (with, conveniently, a general store) that is untouched by the devastation outside; somehow, the winds don’t blow through it. She seems to be the last person on Earth, but one day she witnesses the arrival of scientist John Loomis, wearing a radiation suit. Ann, a Christian, considers Adam to be the first man and comes to think of Loomis as Zachariah, the last.
The filmed version, adapted by Nissar Modi, makes the character, played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, far more sympathetic than in the book. The original Loomis tries to rape Ann, and then shoots to maim so she won’t be able to run away. This one’s a gentleman, even telling her, when she tries to seduce him, to slow down; we’ve got lots of time, he says. It should be noted that Ann in the movie is older than 16 — though not by much — and played by 25-yearold Margot Robbie.
About the worst thing Loomis does in the early going is to go on a one-night bender with the alcohol from the store, a transgression he immediately regrets and vows not to repeat. But there are more fundamental problems in the burgeoning relationship.
Ann is thrilled when Loomis uses his technical know-how to siphon gasoline from the store’s pumps and get the tractor running. But she balks at tearing down the church to construct a water wheel and produce electricity. Loomis, who has been quietly rolling his eyes at her grace-before-meals habits, doesn’t even recognize the crux of her objection.
And then there’s Caleb (Chris Pine), who somehow finds his way into the valley without a radiation suit; he’d been working deep underground in a mine when things went south. Closer to Ann in age, accent, skin colour, education and religious convictions, Caleb represents an immediate threat to Loomis and his incipient New Eden; although Ejiofor’s occasional bout of concerned paranoia might be the first time I’ve seen this excellent player overact without sufficient reason.
Fans of the novel may find much to dislike in this modification of the central cast. More troubling, perhaps, is that the new setup doesn’t make the best use of its triumvirate. The tension between Loomis and Caleb waxes and wanes, never achieving any dramatic heft. The film maintains a steady PG rating, but lacks teeth.
Z For Zachariah remains an intriguing addition to the post-apocalyptic love-triangle sub-genre; admittedly a narrow realm. For a better take on the topic, track down the excellent 1985 New Zealand film The Quiet Earth. Meanwhile, this one still has its appeal. Last film on Earth or not, there’s reason to watch it.