Richard Kelly
Donnie Darko

There is a new arrival in a high school class. A young, timid foal, who knows how many worries, how many thoughts; a new little society to join, many strangers, a challenge to fight against the prejudices and easy malice typical of adolescence.

Do not fear, girl, the teacher is here for this. And so, to the question "Where should I sit?" she replies, with pointed malice: "Next to the boy you like the most."

And the beautiful American teenager sits next to the troubled and mysterious protagonist Donnie Darko.

My hand frantically searches for the remote control among the cushions of the couch. The incredulous eye seeks comfort in the living room furniture, in the building across the street, outside the window, only to continue dancing among the shadows on the wall. The finger feverishly searches for the right button, the mouth exclaims, undaunted, words of disgust: let's turn off this bullshit.

This is a true story. It is a story of sad bewilderment and unexpected determination.

After calming myself with indigenous practices, I resumed watching the film and found that the horrid scene was not an isolated incident, perhaps the most significant one, but a precise trend (if you'll pardon the term) dear to the film.

Whatever they say, this is a clever, cunning film. It is a film made for the alternative teenager, typically 90s (even though it dates from 2001), a period when it was realized that there were more types of teenagers (after spending the 80s treating them all the same, as idiots) and thus more ways to make money.

The alternative kid, a bit dark, a bit hippie, a bit of an idiot, watches Donnie Darko and dreams of having him if she's a girl, of being him if he's a boy.

A commercial product, nothing more. Certainly quite well-made with various valid ideas and insights, but, like all teenage films, exceedingly annoying and overall embarrassing.

P.S.

On the transcendental metaphysical speeches and all those other random adjectives studied in high school philosophy: they are laughably ridiculous. They have the depth of a puddle. The real stuff in the subject matter is quite different. These are good if you're between 13 and 18 years old. After that, one grows up, understands a few things, re-evaluates, regrets, feels ashamed, laughs heartily, forgets.

Now go ahead and criticize me, I'm ready.