The flush of first love and a sexual awakening can be invigorating and utterly bewildering, mobilizing emotions that feel primordial in their ability to push people out of their comfort zones. Macedonian writer-director, Goran Stolevski's sophomore feature, Of an Age, captures that rush of vexing sensations with a tender freneticism, forcing audiences and characters alike to reflect on such experiences with both intense profundity and the pensiveness of retrospect.
The Australian production is a brief whirlwind that not only revels in the tradition of New Queer Cinema (with one character even noting their love for Wong Kar-wai's seminal Happy Together) but also forges its own identity. It's a vividly warmhearted exploration of what an ephemeral first love feels like and how its embers can continue to burn long after everything is said and done — searing both parties with the pain of what-ifs.
Set (primarily) on a single day during the summer of 1999, Of an Age opens with a sparkling dance number that introduces the Serbian-born Kol (Elias Anton), who is practicing for a dance final that will never come to be. His dance partner and best friend, Ebony (Hattie Hook), calls him in a hungover haze from the middle of nowhere, unable to make it to the competition on time. Kol will have to forfeit unless Ebony gets help from the one person she has no desire of seeing: her older brother, Adam (Thom Green). It's only when Adam agrees to pick up Kol does the transitory magic of the film come to fruition as we watch love, and all its challenges, blossom.
There is a pulsating electricity to the opening moments of the film, frenetically tapping into the raw energy of both a stressful morning and the quiet maelstrom of an innate connection. Caught between turbulent swells and laminar flows, the vérité, handheld camerawork first swoons with the tumultuous feeling of an instinctive bond. It then beautifully mellows out with close-ups that rest on each awkward silence and conversation about literature, cinema and the Yugoslav Wars.
Each of these individual close-ups continues to slowly connect Kol and Adam with each other. Their faces first populate the opposite sides of the frame and then fill it in unison, reducing, not only the space between them, but closing the gap of trepidation both feel in acting on their desires. With Adam's mentoring and brotherly counsel giving way to romantic tension with breathtaking ease.
Stolevski cements a bold, lyrical cinematic language that luxuriates in the fleeting nature of Kol and Adam's intrinsic attraction to one another. Potently capturing the scorching passions of one brief day, which climaxes at an echelon many lifelong relationships fail to reach. This visual tapestry adds great force to the film's more familiar elements, wherein the coming-of-age and coming out narratives transfix, startle and move in equal measure. Adam's plans to study abroad and see the world lock the relationship into a liminal space: caught between an enduring romance and a momentary hookup. Either way, doomed to a premature end.
This slice-of-life structure is also emboldened by Anton and Green's impeccably authentic, lived-in performances. Their natural chemistry is entrancing, radiating a tenderness that is palpable with each longing stare and skittish advance, culminating in delicate sex scenes and tragic final embraces. The soundtrack is pure musical gold, shifting from French pop classics and Portuguese ballads to Serbian rock operas and ballroom electro, all capped off by arguably the greatest use of the Cardigans's "Lovefool" ever. It's a dizzying, eclectic mosaic that is just as sweeping and exhilarating as the dynamic between Kol and Adam.
The film enters a mid-act lull when the duo is separated for a lengthy stretch, transforming the film's frenzied playfulness into something more laid back. However, the pacing is thankfully resuscitated in its final half-hour with a time jump that wistfully basks in the agony of a bygone love and the joy of having experienced such intense emotions — despite how transient they are.
Focus Features has produced some of the most memorable LGBTQ+ dramas of this millennum, including Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain and Mike Mill's Beginners. Of an Age is another worthy entry into that celebrated canon, even if it doesn't garner the same box office success and awards recognition. Although Kol and Adam's 24-hour romance will be lost to time, it would be a shame if their movie was, too.
(Focus)The Australian production is a brief whirlwind that not only revels in the tradition of New Queer Cinema (with one character even noting their love for Wong Kar-wai's seminal Happy Together) but also forges its own identity. It's a vividly warmhearted exploration of what an ephemeral first love feels like and how its embers can continue to burn long after everything is said and done — searing both parties with the pain of what-ifs.
Set (primarily) on a single day during the summer of 1999, Of an Age opens with a sparkling dance number that introduces the Serbian-born Kol (Elias Anton), who is practicing for a dance final that will never come to be. His dance partner and best friend, Ebony (Hattie Hook), calls him in a hungover haze from the middle of nowhere, unable to make it to the competition on time. Kol will have to forfeit unless Ebony gets help from the one person she has no desire of seeing: her older brother, Adam (Thom Green). It's only when Adam agrees to pick up Kol does the transitory magic of the film come to fruition as we watch love, and all its challenges, blossom.
There is a pulsating electricity to the opening moments of the film, frenetically tapping into the raw energy of both a stressful morning and the quiet maelstrom of an innate connection. Caught between turbulent swells and laminar flows, the vérité, handheld camerawork first swoons with the tumultuous feeling of an instinctive bond. It then beautifully mellows out with close-ups that rest on each awkward silence and conversation about literature, cinema and the Yugoslav Wars.
Each of these individual close-ups continues to slowly connect Kol and Adam with each other. Their faces first populate the opposite sides of the frame and then fill it in unison, reducing, not only the space between them, but closing the gap of trepidation both feel in acting on their desires. With Adam's mentoring and brotherly counsel giving way to romantic tension with breathtaking ease.
Stolevski cements a bold, lyrical cinematic language that luxuriates in the fleeting nature of Kol and Adam's intrinsic attraction to one another. Potently capturing the scorching passions of one brief day, which climaxes at an echelon many lifelong relationships fail to reach. This visual tapestry adds great force to the film's more familiar elements, wherein the coming-of-age and coming out narratives transfix, startle and move in equal measure. Adam's plans to study abroad and see the world lock the relationship into a liminal space: caught between an enduring romance and a momentary hookup. Either way, doomed to a premature end.
This slice-of-life structure is also emboldened by Anton and Green's impeccably authentic, lived-in performances. Their natural chemistry is entrancing, radiating a tenderness that is palpable with each longing stare and skittish advance, culminating in delicate sex scenes and tragic final embraces. The soundtrack is pure musical gold, shifting from French pop classics and Portuguese ballads to Serbian rock operas and ballroom electro, all capped off by arguably the greatest use of the Cardigans's "Lovefool" ever. It's a dizzying, eclectic mosaic that is just as sweeping and exhilarating as the dynamic between Kol and Adam.
The film enters a mid-act lull when the duo is separated for a lengthy stretch, transforming the film's frenzied playfulness into something more laid back. However, the pacing is thankfully resuscitated in its final half-hour with a time jump that wistfully basks in the agony of a bygone love and the joy of having experienced such intense emotions — despite how transient they are.
Focus Features has produced some of the most memorable LGBTQ+ dramas of this millennum, including Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain and Mike Mill's Beginners. Of an Age is another worthy entry into that celebrated canon, even if it doesn't garner the same box office success and awards recognition. Although Kol and Adam's 24-hour romance will be lost to time, it would be a shame if their movie was, too.