Let Us Now Praise Little Men

The two sit, their backs to a wall, parsing the end of their affair. "Did you think we were gonna be together forever?" Nasia says, as much in elegy as in anger. "I just can't stand you anymore." Buddy, flailing for a lifeline, asks, "Can I say I'm sorry?" Nasia says it's too late. So he asks, "Can I kiss you one last time?" But she wants a different parting gift: "Tell me that you love me." He is silent. "Do you love me?" she asks. Buddy looks away. What can a 13-year-old boy say to a 12-year-old girl who has outgrown his puppy love?

We are about to place the burden of praise on a small film, a movie no larger than its main characters--kids 9 to 13, in a rural corner of North Carolina a decade ago. But George Washington can carry the weight. David Gordon Green's ensemble drama reveals emotional breadth on its miniature canvas. It shows that kids share with adults more than we imagine. Anyone, regardless of age, can fall in love or be crushed by it; anyone can surrender to despair and self-loathing, or pursue a dream that others think is folly.

In this class portrait, distinct personalities soon emerge: Nasia (Candace Evanofski), already aware of her gift for beguiling the opposite sex; Buddy (Curtis Cotton III), who looks ready to make a career of his heartbreak; the mismatched couple Vernon (Damian Jewan Lee), big and black, and Sonya (Rachael Handy), a runty blond; and George (Donald Holden), who has a soft head--he wears a helmet to protect his skull--and a warm heart. He sees a boy floating face down in a swimming pool and dives in to save him. Already racked by an inadvertent tragedy, George assigns himself the mission of saving people. Striding through town in a bedsheet cape, sports tights and a helmet, he seems an endearingly preposterous figure. But Nasia is drawn to a man with a quest. "If I ever get in trouble," she says, "will you save my life?"

Here is a film about yearning--the ache for love--and the way wounded people express it. The coup of Green's script is to render complicated feelings in a mix of plangent cliches and vernacular poetry. Listen to Buddy, lovesick over Nasia's desertion, as he bares his soul. "I gave my all to her," he moans. "A plastic ring and a kiss. I mean, it's the thought that counts."

Movies about kids often portray adults as the enemy, clueless or villainous. This one doesn't. The children, most of them stranded in the waiting room of prepubescence, look to adults for guidance and offer unconditional love in return. George, visiting his father in jail, says, "I love you so much, sometimes I can't even breathe." Buddy's ma has trouble sleeping, so he lullabies her with favorite tunes ("She likes the theme to Blazing Saddles"). George's uncle Damascus (Eddie Rouse) is a violent man whose fear of dogs impels him to kill George's treasured stray. From guilt and love, he fashions a cap out of the dead mutt's pelt and gives it to the boy to protect his head. It's the thought that counts.

This first feature by Green, just 25, will evoke memories of David Lynch's Blue Velvet (the rapturous weirdness of small-town life) and Terrence Malick's Days of Heaven (a tough girl's narration, set to gorgeous cinematography). But this kid doesn't need famous parents. It stands, soars on its own. It moves to a seductive rhythm and vision. And it has, like each of the children in it, a restless beauty that haunts their lives and the viewer's heart.