"The Way, Way Back" was largely ignored by the general populace. eliciting polite nods from critics, a friendly smile from viewers, and a short stint in Redbox, which is where I snagged it on four different occasions.
It’s a proven formula and it worked, but there was something that unsettled me, so I watched it again.
And again. And again.
There was something about the villain that did not work for me.
Apparently Steve Carrell, who played the antagonist, was of the same mind.
“I didn’t approach him as a villain or a jerk,” said Carrell. “It’s someone who is doing his best given the tools that he has.”
The opening scene -- which was also featured in the trailer -- immediately begins to alienate Trent from the audience:
Trent: [overbearing tone] What... what don't you know? How you see yourself? You don't have any opinion?
[no response from Duncan]
Trent: I'm just asking. Pick any number, scale of one to ten. Just shout it out. Just say a number.
Duncan: [reluctantly] A six.
Trent: A what?
Duncan: A six!
Trent: I think you're a three. You know why I think you're a three? You know what would make me say that?
Duncan: [morosely] No.
Trent: You don't know? You have no idea?
Duncan: No.
Trent: You've got to speak up, buddy.
Duncan: No!
Trent: Since I've been dating your mom, I don't see you putting yourself out there, bud. Meeting kids your own age. And from what your mom tells me, you just seem content to hang around her apartment. Is that a fair assessment? You're just happy not do anything? 'Cause... damn, to me that is a three.
The conversation is referenced again later when Duncan discusses the exchange with Owen.
Duncan: This is the only place I'm happy.
Owen: What's going on?
Duncan: I hate him.
Owen: Who?
Duncan: Trent. My mom's boyfriend. He said I was a three. He asked me what I thought I was on, a scale from one to ten. He called me a three. Who says that to somebody?
Owen: Someone who doesn't know you.
Duncan: I didn't want to have to answer! I shouldn't have to answer!
Owen: Listen to me. That's about him, man. That's all about him. It's got nothing to do with you.
Duncan: [vehemently] Yeah? How do you know?
Owen: 'Cause I know, okay? Don't worry about how I know. My dad was the same way. That's why I don't like patterns and rules. And that's why you can't buy into that shit. You gotta go your own way. And you, my friend, are going your own way.
The encounter is touching and it makes us root for Owen and further despise Trent. The truth, however, cannot be as simple as that. It is not easy to parent. When you live with someone, you are keenly aware of their flaws that they strategically mask from the rest of the world. Parents and authority figures are not afforded the luxury of presenting their bright character traits for the few hours per day that you see them in public. They are constantly viewed with their proverbial shirts untucked.
Anyone can be the cool guy at the water park. Do a few tricks, lay a few lines and you undo completely what the people that love you do. Trent employs a tired methodology of discipline. He assumes that his dismal summary of Duncan's character will inspire him to improve. He also insists that Duncan play by the rules. His hope is that they can "all make it work together as a family."
While not without his flaws, Trent is within his right. Even if his efforts are misguided they are perhaps more permissible than Owen's.
In a scene that nears the end, the disjointed family sits together playing the children's board game Candyland. While playing, Duncan's mother encourages him to take a shortcut, but Trent contests this because it is not within the rules. His mother is indignant saying that it really doesn't matter because "it's just Candyland!"
But as Trent unpopularly points out, if it didn't matter, it wouldn't be in the rules.
Criticism, following the rules, and calling out character flaws is dying out -- and with it, I'm afraid, is self-improvement.
Self-improvement, while once the driver, is now sitting in the way, way back.
