The opening moment of The Way Way Back is a make it or break it kind of deal. Steve Carell plays against type as Trent – father, divorcé, and new boyfriend to Toni Collette’s, Pam. She’s also a divorcé and also has a kid, Duncan. Trent is driving both families to his lake house and lays into Duncan (Liam James) telling him that on a scale of 1-10, he’s only a 3. This is one of those moments that is so strange and mean it’s hard to relate to. I’m sure there are fathers and boyfriends who’ve done similar things although I’m glad I’ve never met any. This first five minutes makes it incredibly obvious the film is going to focus on Trent’s abusive relationship to Duncan.

Except it’s a comedy.

A comedy about Duncan’s emotional abuse and his mom’s failed attempts at relationships.

And thus that opening scene is a break it kind of moment.

The perfect blend of comedy and psychological abuse.

About 15 minutes into The Way Way Back I turned to GI Joe sitting next to me and we exchanged a few words that expressed our mutual understanding of what was going on. As we were quickly introduced to the multitudes of characters, the really awful and mean sister’s friends, the overly loud neighbor lady and her far too aware children, the insensitive best friends down the road – it became painfully obvious that this movie was trying too hard. Everything was amped about twice as much as it needed be. The neighbor is twice as loud and obnoxious. The kid with the lazy eye is twice as precocious, the sister’s friends are twice as much classist jerks, Trent is twice as mean, the mother is twice as helpless, and even Duncan himself is twice as shy.

The effect is to indicate things we recognize from our past. I know the type of person that lives near a lake. I have family and friends that I would visit at Lake Wawasee in Indiana. Everything in this movie… the houses, the dress, the beach, it all felt like it was right but just twice as much as it should have been. Even the life jacket Duncan is forced to wear on a boat trip is far larger and more obnoxious than any life jacket I’ve ever seen anyone wear.

“We use this to save wildebeest from drowning.”

The water park, of which I’ve been to a few (Diamond Jim’s anyone?) is named Water Wizz. I found out that’s a real park and that’s its real name. Unfortunately everything is so over the top that even the real things feel fake.

Duncan is 14 and going through massive growing pains: simultaneously fighting with his adult guardians, falling for the girl next door, and secretly getting a job at Water Wizz – a park filled with only the most improbable people that sort of resemble people we know but not completely, because they are twice as much as they should be. The park is run by manager Owen (Sam Rockwell) who is a local God-like figure to the rampaging 14 year olds and fan boy regulars, but a total screw up to the adults.

In forming a bond with Duncan, who starts working at the park – we as an audience are treated to the only part of the movie worthwhile. Sam Rockwell has personality for days and despite how ludicrous and silly his antics are, how out of place he seems, how over the top he goes, it’s just enjoyable to watch him do his thing. In addition there are some touching moments of connection and learning life’s lessons between him and Duncan.

“Hi, I’m the best thing about this movie.”

But that’s about it. Otherwise, the movie is clunky, awkward, and written with no sense of what people will believe.  GI Joe said it best when he described The Way Way Back as if it’s written and directed the way a 14 year old would perceive things. But it’s too much. Nobody wants to be 14 again.

All of this goes back to my belief that directors make movies good and not actors. Everyone in the film does what they are told and they do it well. Carell is an effective Jerk, Liam is appropriately sad and awkward, etc… I do not fault any of the acting. The movie is just not good enough. And in the hands of someone willing to take it down a couple notches, the great film inside might have been let out.

Eventually family secrets are revealed, Duncan finds himself, and we are treated to moments of quasi-redemption balanced by yet more unbelievable meanness. The very final moment has Pam crawling into the back seat with Duncan as some sort of healing bonding to end the story. Trent protests with wooden lines like like “Pam, come on. Come on Pam. Pam? Come on.” It’s especially bad since all she did was switch seats in the car to sit with her son. It plays phony and forced and isn’t helped by the art house punctuation of silent closeups. You know, just in case we didn’t catch this was an emotional moment. The Way Way Back is an exercise in indicating something greater but not being something greater.

The closer, the seriouser.

At 103 minutes I would have doubled that time for all being twice as much. But Sam Rockwell is particularly entertaining so I’ll multiply by 1.7 and give this 175.1 minutes.