Are we in a post Manic-Pixie-Dream-Girl age? Certainly, the trope and its name have entered the mainstream lexicon, and a number of films—(500) Days of Summer), Ruby Sparks, and The Pretty One to name a few—have tried to address or subvert the trope in one way or another, although each has arguably succumbed or indulged in the trope in the process, inadvertently becoming exactly what it tried to criticize.
Enter Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. Its self-consciousness in telling a story defined by an MPDG, if not its awareness of the trope itself, eclipses its predecessors. The film unfolds in retrospect, with Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann) reciting in voiceover what we will soon learn is his college admissions essay, about how he floated through high school making parodies of his favorite films with his friend Earl (RJ Cyler) before having his path-of-least-resistance modus operandi upended when his mother forced him to spend time with Rachel Kushner (Olivia Cooke, the “dying girl” of the title) after she is diagnosed with leukemia. The story follows the trajectory you would expect, with mildly-amusing quip after mildly-amusing quip ensuring light entertainment. Greg is the insufferable, self-deprecating narcissist you would expect him to be and Earl is the clichéd black friend from a bad neighborhood who says things like “dem titties” repeatedly, a characterization that has rightfully caused a mild stir. Together, the two move on from “The 400 Bros” and “Brew Vervet” to making something original for Rachel, a task that Greg’s ironic shield and perfectionism are not well-suited for (as for Earl, he’s mostly sidelined here). And Rachel? Well, she’s the dying girl, and by dying, she shows Greg a lot about how to live.
Except—and this is the film’s most provocative element—Greg does not really change. His retrospective voiceover/essay has the same defeatist tone that he had before meeting Rachel, and the post-it note he includes when sending his essay and film to college showcases the exact characteristics the narrative of him and Earl and the Dying Girl is supposed to have helped him grow out of. With a bit more self-awareness and distance, Greg would be less of a stock character than the very idea of that character in and of itself, and the audience could critique the way he appropriates the life of a girl with cancer to suit his causes. Unfortunately, the film does not play that way, and the final act—a poorly written mess that leaves countless plot questions—instead depicts Greg as finally understanding that Rachel is an actual person rather than a character in his life. So why don’t his essay and his own storytelling reflect that? It’s an element of the film and an unanswered question that helps make Me and Earl more than a generic Sundance film noteworthy primarily for flattering the audience into feeling intelligent, a trait they will then reflexively ascribe to the film for appealing to them so handsomely (countless films are referenced, but only Established Classics; don’t expect any experimental films, lesser-known art-house fare, or popular films to be elevated to the same level as Martin Scorsese and Werner Herzog). Unfortunately for the film, it’s also the primary element that makes it fail even on its own terms. The film is completely at odds with itself, indulging in what it criticizes without ever appearing to realize it.
Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and cinematographer Chung-hoon Chung deserve credit for a handful of impressive long-takes, particularly near the beginning of the film, when Greg’s mother is first telling him about Rachel, and idiosyncratic framings give something to think about during the story’s lulls, but the MVP Award is shared by Brian Eno and Nico Muhly, whose score is simultaneously subtle and powerful, making emotional the film’s most hackneyed and improbable moments. Still, it’s hard to redeem a film that seemed to shoot itself in the foot from conception. Whether this is to be blamed on Jesse Andrews– who adapted his own book–or Gomez-Rejon, I cannot say, not having read the book. Still, I suspect both could have done better.