Review of Short Term 12 (2013) by Pieceofmine — 03 Sep 2013

Writer-director Destin Cretton's Short Term 12 is a marvel, an intimate look into the life of a young woman named Grace, a mature, resourceful, and damaged caretaker at a juvenile housing facility. From first shot to last, the film is stunning; it is emotionally vast, beautifully and intimately shot, and an incredibly acted success.

Short Term 12's subject matter lends itself to immediacy, and so the film presents its characters in stride, building up Grace, her paramour co-worker, ally, and confidant Mason, and the teenagers in their care with small, detailed brushstrokes for example, we learn who Mason is primarily through his natural storytelling ability as he introduces the facility to a new staff member; with anger-brimming older boy Marcus, it's a profound but not unbelievably polished rap session. These moments are expository without ever feeling forced or out of place; Cretton's mantra seems to favor an almost voyeuristic naturalism above all else. There are a few scant moments where the writing takes a turn for the more forced, especially when the script plays for laughs and the jokes stand out from the rest of the dialogue because they are so obviously structured for punchlines. These are easily forgiven, however, as the film quickly slips into its deeply sympathetic stages, teasing out the wracking pain and broken pasts buried within these kids, who quickly demonstrate that they're far more than the band of colorful misfits they initially present as. The aforementioned Marcus as the facility's veteran resident and a newcomer, Jayden, whose attitude and scarred over past most closely resemble Grace, play the primary fulcrums for Mason and Grace to pivot around. Instead of one great urgency that drives the narrative forward, there is a looser, short-story style that weaves its way through the film, thus adhering to its dropped-in, naturalistic feel. The conflicts these kids (and other adults!) introduce and the sympathies they engender are utilized as ways to explore, primarily, Grace's own frustrations, weaknesses, aspirations, and pain. Grace is the all-encompassing center stage here, and at its core, the film is very introspective, an elegant psychological portrait that strikes a near-perfect balance between what it shows and what it leaves for the viewer to surmise.

So, of course, we must talk about Brie Larson's superlative, sumptuous performance as Grace. This is as close of an embodiment of the now mythical strong female character as you're likely to see all year. She's immediately admirable and likable it's clear that she cares for these children and operates with a generous compassion and patience, but her balancing flaws are what make her truly stand out. Instead of a few individual negative traits (like the general impishness that infects every manic pixie dream girl derivative, or, say, emotional volatility because, you know, women are crazy), her demons form an almost terrifying certainly tragically cohesive whole. She's constantly receding from some past open wound, and it makes her at times prideful, stubborn, defiant, pitiful, and difficult. Her past and her person come together to form a character that understands how to fight through pain, and demonstrates courage through her resilience and fire, but is never quite sanctified and all the more laudably grounded for it. Though in broad strokes it is a rich and comprehensive and powerful portrayal, there are a few pinprick moments where the direction does seem to recede into comfortable cliche do we ever need another shot of a character looking vacant and troubled in the shower? Still, a few of these are easily forgiven, and the larger picture painted is still breathtaking. This centerpiece that is Grace owes equal dues to Cretton's heartfelt script and Larson's performance, the latter of which runs the gamut between optimistically aloof, passionate, distant, angry, and, when earned, triumphant, and she leaves nothing on the table.

Larson would stick out like a sore thumb, however, if her supporting cast didn't all rise to the challenge to extend the tapestry of her character into a fully realized world populated with all sorts of interesting. As Mason, John Gallager Jr. gives a far less showy but quietly stellar performance as Grace's partner in all things; if I had to nitpick, there are moments where he suffers from Gary Stu syndrome, but he has enough to do to quickly rise up as a formidably substantial character on his own. When Grace runs into adversaries, instead of being heartless bureaucratic hardasses like the DMV caricatures administrative types are usually presented as, they offer counter-arguments that are both logical and passionate, and Grace is far from always right. But we continue to root for her in tremendous ways, because she seems so knowable, because she's heartwrenchingly thorough, because this story, in spite of its sometimes angsty trappings, comes across as so personal and real.