For my fellow millennials and zillennials, you probably remember the sheer, idiodic brilliance that was Jackass on MTV. Created by Johnny Knoxville, Spike Jonze, and Jeff Tremaine, it followed a group of hyper-masculine men pulling ridiculous “stunts” so they could watch each other get terribly hurt. It was chaotic, stupid, and ridiculously fun. But swap out seasoned chaos agents for a group of reckless, wannabe stuntmen, and suddenly the jokes crumble. Crash Land, Dempsey Bryk’s poignant coming of age dramedy, wades into that territory.
Lance (Gabriel LaBelle, Saturday Night), Clay (Noah Parker, The Voyeurs), Darby (Billy Bryk, Friendship), and Sander (Finn Wolfhard, Stranger Things) have spent their childhoods drinking, wreaking havoc, and filming crude stunts in their small town. Everyone hates them as they cause nothing but disturbance and destruction. Wanting to finally prove their lives have meaning, the boys set out to make a “real movie” and in the process they are forced to confront emotions and experiences they have never considered before: love, loss, and ultimately, what it means to grow up.
Bryk could have taken this narrative in a dozen of different directions. He could have leaned hard into the Jackass-style homage, stuffing the film with one absurd stunt after another. Or he could have paid homage to Richard Linklater by creating a meandering, vibes-first hangout film. However, Bryk threads the needle between the two inspirations. Although the story may feel a little bit clichéd, there is enough heart and chaos to make this film feel like a generation-defining coming-of-age dramedy.
This closely knit friend group, The Musketeers, is not making these stunt videos because they want to be stuntmen, despite saying otherwise. They make them because it they give meaning to their mundane lives. Economically, educationally, and socially, they have no prospects in their rural Ontario home, unless they leave. But leaving is its own kind of nightmare because this means leaving the only constant they have had in their lives: their friendship.
Then when one of their stunts goes sideways, which results in a death. The surviving friends promise to make a “real” film to honour their fallen comrade. But as they stumble their way through this film, which may include some stolen guns and a real car chase, they are forced to confront the slow, uncomfortable reality of growing up. They realize that friendships aren’t permanent fixtures. Friendships are seasonal, fragile and are in a constant state of evolution. And this reality terrifies the group as they believe that it cheapens their friendship when it actually strengthens it.
First time director Bryk shoots his film with a real sense of intimacy, both in how the camera moves and how the characters are drawn. The cinematography has this loose, almost documentary-style feel, as every frame uses natural lighting and handheld camera work. It feels like you are not watching this story, but rather watching this group of kids try to make something of their own. This effect gives the film a raw, lived-in quality that makes it feel honest.
What further adds to the film’s honesty are the performances. The actors lock into that specific, fragile moment in which their characters are caught between who they are and who they are supposed to become. LaBelle leans all the way into the “refuses to grow up” man-child archetype, but he gives it enough charm that you understand why everyone keeps him around. Parker nails that restless, in-between energy of someone who knows they need to move forward but can’t quite pry themselves loose from home. Wolfhard, meanwhile, goes full oddball as Sander, bringing a slightly unhinged edge to the group dynamic with his pink robe and his tighty-whities. And Abby Quinn (Little Women) as Gemma acts as the grounding force in this group’s friendship. She recognizes that relationships, no matter how formative they are, aren’t built to last forever.
Overall, Crash Land is a film that quietly sneaks up on you. What starts off as something scrappy and chaotic reveals itself to be an affectionate dramedy about growing pains no one really prepares you for. Crash Land understands that getting older isn’t some kind of grand, cinematic moment. It’s a messy, uneven, and often unpleasant experience that happens whether you are ready or not. And in that honesty, Bryk delivers a film that is honest, poignant, and will define a new generation.
