Growing Pains (2024) Film Review
I love indie cinema. Not only I love its very peculiar style, but I love celebrating what filmmakers in that realm try to do with whatever budget they have at hand. Everyone who knows me can confirm this, as often I’ve had to defend independent productions from those who don’t understand that it takes place in an entirely different place, with different rules, and different standards.
But there are some things that I find very hard to accept. I can understand not being able to do good CGI, or even editing and sound issues. But grounded pieces are a whole other thing that should be able to get past the obvious. Growing Pains heavily suffers from a complete lack of narrative drive. It runs like an ad for medicine that cures every teenage issue you’ve ever thought of, and its performers seem like trapped in a film that’s everything but authentic. This time, I found it hard to celebrate it.
However, I can understand where it’s coming from. Newbie filmmaker Catherine Argyrople has a lot to learn in the field and I’m sure she’ll get around to that. While Growing Pains won’t go down as a masterpiece, there’s a lesson the director is trying to teach, and sometimes that’s just as important as fancy filmmaking.
Once you get past its cringey, clunkily written first scene involving two teens talking about returning to school, Growing Pains tries to get better. The problem with the movie is that its first act leans on weak characters that are made worse by the necessity to capture the film’s message in every line delivered. Take for example Nat and Zoe’s scene at the restaurant. Nothing from what they say to each other has a pinch of authenticity. It only sounds like an outline of an exchange. After it gets past the almost awkward nature of its introduction, Growing Pains does get better in expanding Zoe’s character beyond the teenage angst tropes the film portrays.
So, it’s hard to cheer for Growing Pains because it doesn’t approach its subject with enough of a dramatic hook. Also, the profanity is too frequent and it doesn’t feel authentic. Coming-of-age films should try to be as authentic as possible, but Argyrople’s film fails to capture that. Only a few of its performances are compelling enough to stay with you: Deanna Tarraza shines enough to elevate the film above its simplistic approach and she deserves every praise from those who ultimately see the film.
