"Sublime" - Film Review
There’s a certain kind of magic reserved for a teenage, shoegaze-y rock band. Some of the greatest bands of all time will never see the outside of their garage and it won’t matter because it was never fully about making it to the big leagues. A band is creativity, expression, a chance to put this swirling mess of teenage emotion into something tangible. Something they can scream at the top of their lungs, full of angst, full of love. Such is the central heartbeat of Sublime, an Argentinian LGBTQ+ drama about two boys growing up and every turbulent feeling that comes along with it.
Manu (Martín Miller) and Felipe (Teo Inama Chiabrando) are sixteen. They spend all their time together in their small seaside town. In the rare moments where they’re apart, Manu hangs out with his girlfriend, Azul (Azul Mazzeo). Things seem very simple for Manu, mundane even, but there’s something he’s not letting other people see. It’s unclear how long it’s been happening, but Manu has started to develop romantic feelings for Felipe. It’s confusing, impossible to articulate, and all consuming in the way that only a teenage crush can be. Now, Manu is forced to decide if he wants everything between himself and Felipe to change.
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A common trope with recent LGBTQ+ films is an excess of trauma that falls on the characters. There’s death, abuse, and a general sense of despair. It seems as though filmmakers don’t understand how to make films centered on queer narratives without making the thematic stakes of the film at all-time highs. The beautifully contradictory part of human existence is that the smallest moments hold the largest weight. Sublime doesn’t need large-scale tragedy for the audience to understand what’s at stake for Manu. They can see it in the way Manu’s hunched over his bass guitar and how he looks up at Felipe through his floppy, emo hair. As another lovesick rockstar says in Taylor Jenkins Reid’s Daisy Jones & the Six, “People say it's hard to be away from the people you love but it was so hard to be right next to him.” Is there anything more excruciating than being sixteen years old, filled to the bursting with emotions you don’t know how to handle, and watching the object of your affection choose someone else?
Sublime takes a little while to get things going. For a movie about a shoegaze-y rock band, the first half of the film skews toward navel gaze-y. The band in question is decent in the way that every high school had a band like this one, but most of us have thankfully grown out of the phase in our lives where we listen to this type of music. That’s not to say it doesn’t expertly serve its purpose. This band genuinely feels like the product of sixteen year old kids. The songs all kind of sound the same and the lyrics are desperately grasping at concepts they don’t understand. There’s exhilaration within them and the art they’re making. However, the audience doesn't need to sit in on every practice to recognize that. The real heartbeat of the film is in the subtle, earnest performances by the teen actors. They’re generous and present in the moment which makes it all the more frustrating to lose the possibility of showcasing this talented young cast in favor of band practice.
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The film’s ending is in the hands of the audience. Visually, it’s as though nothing has changed for this group of boys in the band. They still play soccer on the beach, tease each other about crushes, and jam in their band. However, it’s the final seconds of Sublime that make the audience really question if nothing or everything has changed. On one hand, an ending this open is frustrating because it only just feels as though the plot is beginning to make progress. The other, far more practical answer is that things have changed and they haven’t in the way that’s so common for teenagers. They can experience grand upheaval only to remain unbothered. It’s the strange resilience of teenagers. Everything and nothing is everything and nothing simultaneously. In many ways, this was the only way Sublime could end: with a beginning. Because, although it doesn’t seem like it when you’re living through it, these chaotic times are simply the preamble to the rest of your life.
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