“A good story has a climax” is an axiom as prevalent in American cinema as “don’t cry over spilt milk” and “don’t eat the yellow snow” is in an American household. Directors know they will never make it in Hollywood if they leave their exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution behind. Richard Linklater’s Boyhood departs from this classic structure -- and it does it so well that audiences never feel that they were cheated out of the thrill of a movie centered on a climactic single event.

Boyhood tells the story of Mason, Jr, played by Ellar Coltrane, and his life growing up in a middle class Texan family. Some movies are distinguished by their all-star casts; others by their large budgets, but what sets Boyhood apart is the obvious care that went into creating it. The first scene introduces the audience to 6-year-old Mason and the last shot nudges us to bid farewell to the beloved young man on the cusp of adulthood who we’ve felt we’ve known all his life. Linklater nurtured his film for over a decade, and his efforts did not go unrecognized: Boyhood was nominated for eight Oscars, including Best Film.

There is no "That Time I Had A Eureka Moment At Age 9 or The Day I Found Out My Mom Was A Russian Spy" instance anywhere in the movie. Hollywood has, dare I say, corrupted audiences into thinking that every movie must have a life-changing moment. I was programmed to believe that somewhere in Boyhood, everything would change for the protagonist. I cringed when Mason was with his friends and some older boys throwing a blade at a wooden board, convinced that he would accidentally cut his leg off and the already financially strapped family would have to find a way to cope with his recently acquired deformity. I winced as Mason looked at a picture on an iPhone driving with his girlfriend to visit University of Texas at Austin, certain they would crash and the rest of the movie would focus on how two in-love teenagers handled being paralyzed. I flinched at every moment like this where disaster seemed, possible, as I was certain something dramatic was bound to happen at some point -- it never did. My problem was not my overactive imagination, but rather that I was accustomed to movies where a single event would determine the story. There was no one incident in Boyhood that decided the course of events, yet the story did not feel like it lacked action or a plot. This is not to say that the life of Boyhood’s characters was simple and calm -- adolescence was not a cake-walk for Mason, Jr. (as it never is), and he and his family were faced with many challenges throughout the film. Rather than a story line with a single important event occurring, Boyhood had many story lines, each culminating and then starting again, each with its own small moment of heartbreak, calamity or success.

Boyhood’s characters, no matter how you feel about them at first, are bound to grow on you. We are introduced to Mason, Jr. on a car ride home from school, and the six-year-old’s delivery of lines is far from remarkable. Ellar Coltrane grows both as a character and an actor, and by the end of the film it’s almost hard to let go. The most transformed character is Mason Jr.’s father, Mason (Ethan Hawke). At first he is completely unlikable -- he is lazy and critical of Mason and his sister’s mother. He grows on the audience as he too grows up into a man, finding a wife and becoming a more active part of his kids’ lives. He even offers Mason some meaningful advice on more than just how to talk to girls. Mason, Jr.’s mother (Patricia Arquette) too exemplifies a superb transformation. At first understood as an insecure young mother who struggles with finding good men, she blossoms before our eyes as a strong maternal figure who, with no help to speak of, puts herself through school and raises her kids. One of the movie’s strongest scenes is crafted by her: “My life is just going to go,” she says. “I just thought there would be more.”

With the film’s relatable story and endearing moments, we see glimpses of ourselves and our lives in Boyhood. This film redefines what cinema should be about. Boyhood reminds us that, sometimes, it’s not about losing yourself in a complex plot, but rather finding yourself in a beautiful story. Humans are intrinsically driven to find connections with others, and Boyhood allows us to do so. This movie is so much more than a story: it’s boyhood, childhood, adulthood -- it’s life.