L.I.E. Long Island Expressway

Over the past few years I've been making an effort to watch a number of movies released in the 21st century that I hadn't seen in all these years. Among these were "Hustle and Flow" and "Blue Jasmine". "L. I. E." is the latest.

Released when Brian Cox was known for occasional supporting roles and Paul Dano was pretty much unknown, Michael Cuesta's movie depicts a topic that movies are usually loath to cover: a relationship between a teenage boy and an older man. The very idea sounds questionable - especially after all the revelations from MeToo - but the movie shows that it's basically the healthiest relationship that either person has had. Mind you, the boy isn't immediately comfortable with it, but he doesn't see much else to do, considering how pitiful everything around him is.

I wouldn't go so far as to call the movie a masterpiece, but it deserves credit for being forthright in dealing with its subject matter and not reducing the characters to cliches. I recommend it. I don't know if it's available on any streaming service, so you might have to check a neighborhood video store.

I think that's the adjectivian phrase that i'm looking for to describe my reaction to this film. From the opening film scene to the abrupt end my eyes were like saucers as my head often shook side to side as if to say no. As a shrink who deals with children, this is an excellent examination of how many times there are no easy solutions and good kids can easily find themselves in bad straits. This is the best movie that I have seen in the past 3 years, which is quite a compliment since I attend movies regularly. I've warned fellow movie buffs of the strong content while suggesting that they look beyond that to examine what they think about the films commentary on teens developing their identities as they seek to enter into adulthood.

I've practically lived this film so I know what it portray's isn't exploitive or audacious in the negative sense. It's a simple story of a kid growing up in the suburbs. The meaninglessness and frustration of this way of life I felt was painted nicely by the cinematographer and the director. The omnipotent lukewarm attempts by the high school and social structure were represented in a fair manner. It's a story of a teenager dealing with many things straight on. This movie is really an interesting look into modern western life as seen by a young kid. The movie draw's you in like all good film-making should. The acting is great. The story will hold your attention and be engaging to you regardless of your childhood. The only stumbling blocks will be your own pretenses or cynicism. It's not a complex story on the surface but everything that isn't spelled out is where the weight of the film resides.

'I needed to make a movie that stayed with people emotionally and psychologically' says L.I.E. director Michael Cuesta. The result, his debut, bears all the hallmarks of a quietly assured, minor modern classic. As Brian Cox, who plays L.I.E's big-hearted pederast 'Big John' Harrigan, says, 'It's old-fashioned in many ways, a film that takes its time and doesn't suffer from MTV jump-cutting'. Such subtleties cut no slack with US censors, who saddled it with a damaging and unsuccessfully appealed NC-17 rating. A knee-jerk reaction, its distributors argued, 'to a small grab-bag of wholly misunderstood moments.infinitely less graphic and gratuitous than many dozens of other films given R ratings.' Despite its sole depiction of nudity being a three-second shot of a (rampantly heterosexual) male buttock, 17-year-old filmgoers were legally obliged to view this intricate study of suburban dislocation with their bemused guardians in tow - a dictate distributors optimistically steered to their advantage. L.I.E's searingly honest exploration of adolescence might now become 'a unique opportunity for a meaningful dialogue' between parents and teens. An unlikely occurrence in the main, given its fleeting, near-invisible cinematic outing.

L.I.E stands for Long Island Expressway, a commuter-crowded freeway running like a knife slash through an affluent New York suburb; for Cuesta 'a metaphor for a kid who's about to be sent into the scary world of adulthood regardless of whether he's ready or not'. A hazardous route then which, we learn, has already killed 'Cat's in the Cradle' singer/songwriter Harry Chapin, All the President's Men director Alan J Pakula - and the mother of L.I.E.'s 15-year-old Howie (a remarkable performance of put-on adolescent toughness, vulnerability and knowing from Paul Franklin Dano). The 'lie' of the title symbolising the myth of cosy suburbia but more pertinently, the casual or far-reaching deceits L.I.E.'s guilt-edged cast of slack-jawed wide boys, footloose rent boys, corrupt white-collar contractors and 'always ashamed' Chicken Hawks will visit on themselves and one another, emotionally hobbled, or shot-through with grief, every one.

If L.I.E initially drew comparisons with the work of Harmony Korine, Larry Clark - and Todd Solondz in particular, Cuesta's film contains a warmth and delicacy often lacking from these fellow chroniclers of suburban juvenile woe. The semi-autobiographical script, by Stephen M Ryder and Michael and Gerald Cuesta, is kinda different too - frank without being exploitative, and unexpectedly tender, with no pussyfooting at all. As Cox says, 'original, brave - kind of groundbreaking'. While that old stand-by of Indiedom, the roving hand-held is present and correct, if refreshingly unobtrusive, Romeo Tirone's exquisite cinematography further distinguishes L.I.E. from its sullen contemporaries, combining a stark, saturated quality (most effectively for the sterile look of soulless 1980s houses) with the smooth visual finish of a Michael Mann.

Perhaps its nearest equivalent is David O Russell's taboo-fest from 1994, Spanking the Monkey, another portrait of inter-generational relationships (plain old incest in this case) played out against the backdrop of suburban blitz - long a fertile slouching ground for independent filmmakers. As former photographer Cuesta, a Long Island native, whose boyhood memories brought a lot to bear on the film's innate truthfulness, says: 'Suburbs have their own cultures, rhythms, ethics, and morals.you have everyone from the Mafia to the artists to 9-5 commuters, and it's certainly true that there's a story behind every door and at the end of every driveway. A big part of making L.I.E. feel real had to do with the inherent realism that comes with shooting near a major highway. That constant hum of traffic permeates every neighbourhood - everyone deals with that sound.'

We first encounter Howie teetering on the brink of a burgeoning, ambivalent sexuality. Literally teetering, as the opening shot describes, balanced precariously on the edge of a flyover. Abandoned by everyone - his father, friends, and schoolboy crush Gary (a shimmeringly anarchic Billy Kay) the sensitive Howie finds emotional rescue with the mysterious 'Big John' Harrigan. An exuberant bear of a man, a curious Harrigan attempts to bewitch an amusedly reticent Howie with allusions to a thrillingly glamorous past, man and boy engaged in teasing, fumbling power play - until an unlikely, neo-parental alliance is at first grudgingly, then preciously forged.

'It was vital the audience could relate to Big John, even sympathize with him', says Cuesta. '(But) I tried very hard to make sure his intentions were constantly blurred'. For Cox, the role (one of his greatest performances) was 'potentially, a career-burying move. There were enormous dangers in it. But I weighed up the odds - and decided the whole point of not doing it were the very reasons to do it. I was really intrigued by how far one could take the character and make it work. The first trap an actor could fall into would be to play Big John as a man whose public façade disguised the fact he was a sexual predator. I took the opposite view: that he was this wonderfully open character, and actually a very nice man - who happened to be a pederast. And the range became so much bigger. It's a story of redemption, and that's what finally came through for me. It's a very responsible film.'

This story rings true because it's something that happens in the real world all the time, whether people want to admit it or not. The film captures events and emotions that are complex, challenging, and confusing.

Howie, a young, intelligent, good-looking boy attracts attention from the same sex and isn't sure how he feels about it. He meets "Big John", and finds himself fascinated and impressed by the man's life, flattered and a bit scared at the attention he shows, and also somewhat repulsed by the man's attraction for young boys.

John, for his part, begins the relationship from a position he's quite familiar with: using his power as a worldly and canny adult to manipulate someone else. He feels physically attracted to Howie, but as they spend more time together, he sees the depth of the boy's character and a sensitivity similar to his own. Howie brings out the good side in John (and some people may be shocked that the film shows how a pedophile can have a "good side", but this is reality and it is well depicted).

Howie's feelings are excellently illustrated as they run a wide spectrum: confused, repulsed, lonely, defiant, confident, aroused, at times even suicidal. I empathized with and admired the character, and found myself rooting strongly for him to rise above the tragic and frustrating circumstances in which he found himself. In the end I felt a sense of triumph as we saw that, despite his unfortunate situation and his own flaws and weaknesses, he does possess the strength and character to face the world and become his own person.