Gas Food Lodging

I was drawn to this movie for two reasons: one, it has a solid cast, and that always carries some weight. Two, it's a 90's coming-of-age story, and if you know me, that hits me in two weak spots. So when I say there's a lot to love about this movie, and you try to reconcile it with the score, you might wonder if I'm talking out of both sides of my mouth. I'm not. For people who love coming-of-age stories, or love family dramadies, or people who love strong women characters, or any overlap of those three, Gas Food Lodging scratches the itch, and it does so while steering away from some obvious cliches. There's no prom, no argument between two people and a tearful reconciliation, no bow tying up everything nice and neat. GFL's characters -- a single mom, an older, cynical, rebellious teenage daughter, and the younger sister, sweeter, and more idealistic -- feel real and lived-in. The world they feel in -- the trailer parks and lower-class neighborhoods of a small, go-nowhere town in New Mexico -- feel real, and are populated with people you'd expect to see there, people trying to get by and make good with what the have. And GFL's conflicts feel real. Nora (played by Brooke Adams) is so focused on trying to rein in one hellion daughter that she practically forgets the other one is there, and that leads to simmering tension; Trudy keeping her pain inside leads to bad choices, and leads to consequences that fracture the family; Shade is still trying to find out who she is, and desperately wants a regular mom-and-dad-and-kids family. Every choice these people make has a consequence, and there isn't a contrivance to bail them out at the end. GFL never takes the easy way out, and never lets anybody off the hook. So it pains me to see a movie with such a bold voice, such strong characters, and such wonderful performances, all working to keep together a script that can be rather haphazard and scattershot. Given the movie has narration by Shade, you'd think this was her story, but a significant portion of it is about Trudy's issues (which also brings up the nagging logic issue of Shade not being there to tell the story). Trudy's story is important. Cutting her out of the movie would turn this into an entirely different story, and I think one of lesser value. But if the movie is supposed to be told through Shade's voice, splitting the time between the sisters AND the mother makes GFL feel unsure of itself. If those stories had been presented through Shade's eyes rather than making them all compete for attention, it would've had a more cohesive vision. It would've been the movie it seems to want to be -- Shade's story -- rather than scrambling to cover more bases than it has hands. And I may be a bit salty about this issue because because, had it been more focused, it would've meant more time with Fairuza Balk, who puts on the kind of performance that doesn't steal a show, it sets the pace and dares others to keep up. No shade to Brooks Adams or Ione Skye, who are great in their own right but Balk is in another league here. If you're used to seeing her as the weird girl or the creepy goth girl, you're in for a surprise here. Shade is delicate and sweet, a desperate romantic who just wants everybody to be happy and never wants things to change. She loves her mom and sister and hates to see them fight, but also hates that Trudy's rebellion sucks up all the air in the room, rendering her invisible in her own house. There's a heartbreaking scene where she learns that a male friend she is harboring a crush on really likes the style of 80's Olivia Newton-John; big blonde hair, sparkly shorts and tights, and a midriff-showing blouse tied under the breasts. She comes into his room prepared to seduce him (based on the terrible advice of her sister), and he rejects her. What he doesn't have the courage to say, and what she hasn't figured out, is that he's gay, so when he says "it's not you, it's me", it's the truth. All she knows is she became what she thought was his idealized woman, even though it was the total opposite of who she is, and it didn't work. Her devastation is palpable. She doesn't even cry. She's just broken and humiliated and assumes the failure is hers, and Balk does such a fantastic job with it. Any human with a heart will see it and want to give her a big hug and tell her it'll all be okay. While the movie is messy and clumsy in its construction, that doesn't stop it from being effective. The characters are still fully realized, and the seriousness and reality with which their lives are handled is mature and uncompromising. Gas Food Lodging's worst crime is not giving me enough of what I think is its strongest asset. But I'll still be thinking about this movie for a while. Its strengths cannot be ignored.