Mark Reviews Movies: OF AN AGE

Of an Age, Focus Features

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Review by Mark Dujsik | February 9, 2023

There's as much power in what's not said as in what is said—if not more so. That's the crux of writer/director Goran Stolevski's Of an Age, which charts a relatively hasty but intense and sincere romance as far as it can possibly go under a certain set of circumstances.

These two could say a lot more than they do over the course of the two-day whirlwind relationship they have, but they say enough to make us believe the authenticity and depth of their quick bond. It's what is left unspoken that comes to haunt them and makes us trust, as well as be heartbroken by, just how genuine this connection has been, is, and likely will be for these two characters.

In other words, there isn't much in terms of a plot or a gimmick to Stolevski's screenplay, and that's what makes it so refreshing and realistic. The whole story takes place over the course of maybe three days in total, although there's a significant gap between those one day and the other two that does a lot of heavy lifting in terms of the tale's impact.

On the first day, we meet Kol (Elias Anton), whose family emigrated from Serbia when he was a kid. Now living in an Australian town circa 1999, Kol attends a dance school and is looking forward to college anywhere but here. It's the kind of place where everybody knows or at least knows of each other, and everyone agrees that a life here is either to be escaped or to live in constant desire to go anywhere else. That's probably more the state and promise of youth talking, but you get the picture anyway.

Kol's best friend is Ebony (Hattie Hook), an aspiring actor who's also his dance partner for the upcoming final/recital at the school, and she wakes up on a beach one morning after partying the previous night. It is the day of the final, and after rushing to a nearby town, Ebony calls Kol from a payphone. They only have a few hours to retrieve her, return to their hometown, and get to the recital.

Complicating matters is a string of things. Kol doesn't have a car of his own. His mother just returned from a night shift at one of her three jobs, so he's not going to ask her for a ride or to borrow the family car for an unknown amount of time. Ebony's mother already disapproves of her behavior, so that option is gone. All of these problems, the time limit, and the obvious importance this final has for Kol feel overwhelming in the moment. Stolevski portrays it with such frantic energy—from the panicky dialogue, to the constantly moving camera, to the fast-paced editing—that it's incredible how downright inconsequential the whole mess seems once the real story begins.

That story starts with Kol getting in touch with Ebony's older brother Adam (Thom Green), who agrees to drive Kol to rescue his sister—although getting to the dance final isn't an option at this point. What follows from there is a long, relatively uneventful drive that just has the two young men talking about a variety of topics. They both went to the same high school, albeit at different times, and share a feeling of not really fitting in and wanting to move on with life. Both read a bit and share their thoughts on favorite authors, with Adam surprised by—and maybe a little suspicious of—his younger co-pilot's taste. They laugh about Ebony, discuss family, and talk about movies, dating, music, and plans for the future.

It all feels so natural, so comfortable, and, because of the authenticity of the dialogue and the performances, so engaging. Things take a slight turn when Adam, in a suddenly off-handed way that gives us a sense of how relaxed he is with Kol, reveals that he's gay. Just as Adam had been evading the particulars of an ex when the subject arose, Kol starts avoiding the topic of sexuality altogether—until he becomes increasingly comfortable with how little has changed in the ease these two men have with each other, even though it's obvious that Kol has something important to tell Adam about himself and what he's really feeling toward Adam.

There's not much more that needs to or can be said about how the rest of the story unfolds, because, obviously, Kol and Adam spend more time together—some of it in the car and a bit more at a party and then even more in the car. Stolevski is clever in how he uses shot setups to reflect where these characters are at with each other, implementing back-and-forth close-ups when the dialogue or some silent looks let us feel both the intimacy and the distance between them, while the later events become an emotional release because we're finally seeing them in the same frame together.

This is a film filled with such subtle touches of filmmaking, storytelling, and performance. The combination goes a long way to transforming a story of such relative simplicity and straightforwardness into material that displays such a degree of verisimilitude and depth of emotion. The work by Anton and Green cannot be overlooked, because they must fully sell that such a vibrant and vital connection forms in such a brief period of time. The two do just that, as well as a lot more when the story jumps ahead a certain amount of time to find how much has changed for each of them and how little has changed between them (The makeup, costumes, and physicality of the actors make the chronological jump a pretty impressive feat of filmmaking trickery).

As for the particulars of the second section in Of an Age, they will, like the silence within those loaded looks and the waiting in or staring at a parked car, remain unspoken here. What can be said of the film's latter part is that Stolevski has crafted a romance that gradually and convincingly builds and builds, until the cumulative emotional effect of what could happen, what has happened, and what might never happen again is overwhelming.

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