#my friends enable me too much brb gonna go scream

[myrelevantwriting-blog]

The Wild, 18-Minute Ride That Is Daydream Believer: A Review by a Former Teenaged Girl

Every generation has its “coming of age” movie: the movie that sees its main character through the naivety of adolescence to a catalyst that makes them realize they’re *gasp* growing up. The ‘70s had American Graffiti, the ‘80s had The Breakfast Club, the early ‘90s gave us the tearjerker My Girl (I’m still holding that vigil for Thomas J). All of these films had characters nearly everyone could identify with. Maybe you were the Cameron to your best friend’s Ferris Bueller. Perhaps you knew exactly what Jim Stark’s deal was in Rebel Without A Cause.

But then, in 1998 came a little known short film with a character so damn relatable it brings up memories you thought you buried so deep in the soil of your brain, it could only be unearthed by years of intense therapy.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Daydream Believer!

Let me start off by saying when my friend Rosie posted this movie to her blog I had no clue what the hell I was getting into. The 1970s film grain and the awkward silence (save for the chirping birds) when we meet our homegirl Susan made me half-expect one of those “What’s Happening to my Body?” filmstrips they made us watch in the 4th grade.

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Susan. All my friends are getting their periods except me. What have I done to anger you so?”

Right away we know Susan is different. She does weird things like…walking (especially when she has a perfectly good Schwinn on the front porch).

God, look at this freak.

“Look at her using her legs for non-jump-rope purposes like a fuckin’ loser.”

So it turns out that Susan’s a loner because she’s always daydreaming about her fab marvy crush…because she’s 11 and this is what 11-year-olds do: daydreaming and hurrying home and catch her fave rave on TV.

To be honest I was expecting it to be Davy Jones...the pirate, not the Monkee.

Yeah, Little Susie’s got fuzzy feelings for Mike Nesmith of the Monkees, to the chagrin of her concerned-yet-not-concerned-enough-to-actually-talk-to-their-kid parents. Susan’s mom is looking at her daughter like she didn’t wet herself over Sinatra back in her day.  I mean, Susan can’t be that obsessed, though. She’s only got like, one album and a single pinup on her wall like she’s some kind of amateur. And she’s pretty reserved in her screaming at the TV so that’s considerate of her.

Her disappointment over lack of mammaries perfectly mimics Mike’s face which in turn perfectly mimics how I feel about this movie so far.

The film then takes somewhat of a weird turn and becomes from here on out a wild rollercoaster ride of “What the actual fuck?” We take a journey into Susan’s brain as she sees herself as a 45 year-old woman teenager, getting ready for her date with-…oh my God.

YOU DON’T SAY

I’m somewhat flabbergasted by their casting decision to go with a paunchy, late-30s Ashkenazi Mike Nesmith but whatever. I’m not gonna judge Susan. She’s 11. When I was 11 I wanted to hang out with Gabe Kaplan circa ‘75. It’s a weird age.

So after her date with Mack Nussbaum we find Susan back at school, going for one of her weird daydream walks and completely oblivious to a group of bitches talkin’ shit behind her back.

“I bet she doesn’t even listen to the Banana Splits. Dweeb.”

“Joke’s on you! Me and Marc Nesbitt are gonna go closed-mouth kiss behind the JFK Memorial Tree. Hope I don’t get pregnant!”

I’m not even going to comment on this next scene. There’s nothing I can add to how utterly perfect it is in its understanding of the pre-teen girl’s brain so I’m just gonna let the caps do the talking.

But trouble rears its ugly head in the form of Susan’s teacher, glaring at her disapprovingly and telling her she’s “a much better writer than this [homework],” before proving this to be a bold-faced lie as we cut to a scene in which Susan writes in her diary:

Mike is so beautiful. He has lovely brown eyes. His hair is so soft and silky. I want to run my fingers through his beautiful hair. He has a sweet Texas accent that is so beautiful to listen to. I could listen to him read a book for hours and hours. He’s divine enchanting!!!

This nonsense reads like a 1st grade primer. Girl, I know you’re 11 but this is clearly not your first day at the Mike Nesmith Rodeo. This should all have been covered on page one.

Also, I hope Susan asked for a thesaurus for Christmas. 

So homegirl’s studies are suffering because she can’t keep her mind out of Mike’s pants and daydreaming about going on a romp with Mork Nerfherder to the song Papa Gene’s Blues. As you do…

“Whatchu thinkin’ about?” “Oh nothing…just statutory stuff.”

…that is until your cockblock of a teacher calls you out for not paying attention and embarrasses you in front of the entire class (a situation I knew all too well, so I actually empathize with her here). Susan goes home to complain to Raggedy Anne and delve into yet another daydream in which Mike takes her home to meet “the guys.” Oh boy, I can’t wait to see what small town community theater actors they got to play the Monk-…..wait what?

They look as confused as I do right now.

After an awkward introduction to the roommates (we’ve all been there. College, amirite?!) Murk and Susan go up to Mulk’s room…

I’m suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable and it’s not for the severed clown head in the corner.

…where Malk puts on bossa nova music and they start making out…

Oh my God, No….

NO!!!

NONONONONONONONONO!

YOU’RE GONNA CUT BACK TO THE CHILD ACTRESS AND MAKE THIS MORE AWKWARD THAN IT IS?! WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

Those lines under Raggedy’s eyes are from all the internal screaming.

No…………………….this is not how I wanted to die.

OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN HALLOWED BE THY NAME….

…AS I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH….

HAS THIS BEEN A PORNO THE ENTIRE TIME?!

BRB SETTING MYSELF ON FIRE…

There isn’t a word for how unnerved I am right now, so I’m just going to make one up. I am extremely floopnozzled, I am totally and immensely…wait a second…

As I breathe a gargantuan sigh of relief, Bra-vo!

After Susan has finished violating her poor Raggedy Anne doll, her dad barges into her room and in a very ominous voice says they need to talk.

The clown in the back but on a brave smile but what his eyes have seen cannot be unseen.

They go to a parent-teacher conference to talk about Susan’s failing schoolwork and conclude it’s Mike’s fault, so they ban her from the living room and the TV. And for whatever reason I don’t quite understand, there’s a scene where Susan has to listen to her parents bone on the couch. I guess as part of her punishment? I dunno.

Girl, same.

EDIT: @legrandennui has informed me that it’s possible the voices she’s hearing aren’t her parents but her daydreams distracting her again. I still think it’s the parents, though.

And even though her parents think she’s obsessed with Mike and forbid her from watching The Monkees, her enabling Mom comes home from the grocery store and gives her flowering junkie a hit of the hard stuff via Teen Life magazine with the Monkees on the cover. I heard this was how Sid Vicious died.

At first Susan is overjoyed, until slowly her smile fades as she reads an article. She storms off into her room and screams at her magazine “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE MARRIED?!”

Lol wut? Child, where have you been? How are you going to be all up on Mike’s dick but not know anything about him beyond his brown eyes and silken hair? That’s like, page 1 in How to Obsess.

So we get one last daydream sequence in which Susan tells Mike she’s leaving him because she’s grown and wants to move on…

…which I guess in this case means getting back to her schoolwork and keeping her grades up…amongst other things.

“Wait, does this mean Shatner doesn’t make her want to bone? Is that the lesson here?”- @legrandennui

I’ve watched a lot of movies about adolescence in my years but this was the first one I’ve seen that had perfectly nailed it in terms of being a young girl with a fave rave. I had gone through nearly everything in this movie: the nonstop daydreams, the constant writing about the object of my surging hormonal lust, not paying attention in school, the concerned look from my parents, and I’m not ashamed to admit my pillow had gotten the Raggedy Anne treatment. My room was a bit more intense than that, pin-up wise but I can’t imagine they had a lot to dress the set with in 1998. This was like looking straight into my own past and as uncomfortable as it was to see what I was like from a 3rd party view, I have to say at the same time it’s incredibly amusing to watch someone flip out over a teen idol while sitting back with a knowing, sympathetic nod. 

If you want to watch the film it’s here on Youtube.