Based on the Nicola Yoon young adult novel of the same name, Everything, Everything is a sweet, if unsatisfying, coming of age film. It’s entertaining and engrossing without being too saccharine, but it’s less a well-made finished product than it is a perfect vehicle to show off its star’s considerable charms.
It’s hard to imagine a movie this obvious being so endearing without Amandla Stenberg in the leading role. She stars as Maddy Whittier, a freshly 18-year-old girl who has never left her house, ever. She was born with a compromised immune system and a disease that’s left her unable to interact with the outside world. It’s all very Bubble Boy, but instead of a literal bubble, it’s a gorgeous suburban home that looks like it was designed by Urban Outfitters. (That sounds like a criticism, but given this abode is cherry picked to make an artsy gal feel like she’s not trapped in a cage, it’s pretty damn fitting.)
Maddy’s only real friends are her nurse Carla (Ana de la Reguera), Carla’s daughter Rosa (Danube Hermosillo) and Maddy’s mom Pauline (Anika Noni Rose). Mom and daughter spend a lot of times snuggled on the couch watching Moonstruck on Netflix and bonding, but it’s clear Maddy longs for more. Luckily, a super cute white dude moves in next door! He’s got messy hair! His favorite book is Lord of The Flies! His family moves around a lot because his dad is an abusive piece of shit that can’t keep a job!!!
It’d be impossible to conjure a more sympathetic love interest for Maddy than Olly (Nick Robinson). You may remember Robinson as the lead of Kings of Summer and he’s only grown more in control of his own Tiger Beat charisma since. The biggest benefit of the film’s Lifetime movie premise is there’s no need (or room) for unnecessary ancillary characters, like most teen films are plagued with. Instead, the majority of the story is dedicated to learning about Maddy and Nick, as they learn about one another. It’s all 101 exposition, but it’s doled out with an adorable relatability.
The glass walls of Maddy’s home divide the two soon to be lovebirds, so their initial exchanges are all via text message, but director Stella Meghie stages their early conversations face to face. They play out like short vignettes inside of the architecture models Maddy builds, complete with the cutesy astronaut figurine she places inside all of them. It’s a stylish way to open up the otherwise claustrophobic film without sacrificing believability. Stendberg does all the heavy work, but she makes it effortless. It’s not easy to convey being so comically sheltered without ever falling back on broad humor. She plays Maddy as a girl who has grown up primarily on the internet, so the whole “never going outside” thing almost feels like a quirk.
The problem is, of course, that she eventually does go outside. Maddy decides that living the rest of her life inside that house isn’t living at all and is willing to die if it means she can spend a weekend in Hawaii with Olly. This road trip sequence is filmed magnificently, utilizing Maddy’s POV to make the world seem strange and new. It’s the emotional climax of the movie and probably would be even better in a version of this story where she dies at the end. Instead, we find out the truth about her condition, in one of the biggest non-twist twists in recent cinematic memory, leaving the audience with a truly disturbing moral conundrum that repaints one of the principal characters as an irredeemable monster.
Everything, Everything works great as an idiosyncratic romantic drama for young adults. It’s got a great score from Childish Gambino producer Ludwig Göransson, and it’ll definitely resonate with its intended audience. But its final act feels pointless and messy in a way the source material probably didn’t. What works as the ending of a novel doesn’t always work in a movie. The love story is a fun one, but having this uncomfortable specter looming over the finale leaves the viewer questioning the implications of questionable parenting choices rather than rejoicing in a happy ending. Kind of a weird way to end what is otherwise a pretty amusing hipster fairy tale.
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