The horrors of hazing at fraternities have been well-documented and condemned over the years. However, despite the depths of humiliation and abuse, some of which has either directly or indirectly resulted in death, frats remain a popular aspect of the university experience. Perpetually floating on a river of nostalgia, these institutions continue to survive by selling themselves as a place of brotherhood and a pipeline to future job prospects.
As Ethan Berger's captivating directorial debut, The Line, makes clear, frats offer a sense of exclusivity that only the truly wealthy can take full advantage of — a realization sophomore Tom Backster (Alex Wolff) doesn't make at the beginning of the film. The only member at his KNA fraternity to have a part-time job, Tom is so committed to his fellow fraternity brothers, including his best friend Mitch Miller (Bo Mitchell), that he has even assumed a fake Southern drawl to sound more like them.
Caring more about upholding the established legacy of KNA than his grade point average, Tom has bought into the notion that frats are the pathway to the American Dream; Mitch's wealthy father (John Malkovich) is an alumnus who proudly shares stories of his drunken frat brothers who are now CEOs.
For all their talk about legacy and esteem, Tom and his frat brethren are far more invested in getting drunk, doing drugs and plotting their next sexual conquest. It's the laast of those that has attracted the latest crop of first-year pledges, who range from the mayor's son Bill (Drew Pipkin) to the highly sought-after cool kid Gettys O'Brien (Austin Abrams), to the group. Understanding the rules fraternities must follow, and the fact that those from prominent families always get in, Gettys's unwillingness to fall prey to the juvenile aspect of the selection process immediately puts him at odds with Mitch, who believes some traditions must be honoured.
As tensions between Gettys and Mitch rises, Tom begins to see the fragile nature of brotherly bonds when ego and fearlessness lead the young men down a dangerous road.
Playing up the unhealthy duality that permeates fraternities, Berger's film examines the hypocrisy of these legacy institutions that claim to groom upstanding young men while simultaneously being a haven for drunken, drug-fuelled debauchery. The Line shows how frats are nothing more than breeding grounds for toxic masculinity without any accountability. In observing Tom's desire to fit into a world where success means compromising all his morals and buying into herd mentality, the audience can see the troubling parallels to the type of aggressive and reckless approach to manhood currently flooding social media platforms.
The performative nature of their manliness is one presented solely through a white straight male lens. At one point, when going over the photos of potential pledges, the group jokingly declare that a South Asian candidate is too dark for their ranks. The fascinating thing about Berger's dissection of fraternity culture is that he makes it clear that it's full of homoerotic undertones. Their roughhousing, and affinity for synchronized dances with crotch-grabbing, speak louder than their incessant need to spew homophobic jokes. They may cosplay the type of manhood they aspire to be, but their ill-fitting costumes expose the insecurities that live within.
Mitch in particular tries particularly hard to live out the type of wild frat bro lifestyle found in Animal House, but this only brings his conflicted sexuality to the forefront. This desire to live up to an unattainable and unhealthy ideal causes the young men to get stuck in the quicksand of their own toxicity.
Similar to Burning Sands before it, The Line offers a cautionary tale that understands that the young men of this generation are not all right. The quest for a sense of identity in a culture where hazing still runs rampant is a recipe for disaster. However, those who will suffer the most are the ones who aren't afforded the Teflon shield that money buys.
While Berger effectively captures the toxicity and privilege within KNA's walls, The Line isn't always as confident outside of it. Despite assembling a talented ensemble cast, some of the film's arcs and characters feel underdeveloped — the most obvious being Tom's interactions with Annabelle Bascom (a criminally underused Halle Bailey), a classmate his frat brothers tease behind her back for having hairy armpits.
A confident young woman, Annabelle provides a space for Tom to be his true self while exposing him to another side of university life. Although she challenges him to be a more accountable person, there's simply not enough interaction between them to lead the audience to believe that she can be a positive force for change in his life.
The underdeveloped female characters aside (Cheri Oteri is also underused as Tom's mother), The Line offers plenty of food for thought. A stirring debut feature that takes viewers into the toxic world of fraternity culture, Berger forces the audience to ponder why these fractured institutional pillars still remain standing today.