TMS Movie Review: Palm Trees and Power Lines
(Momentum Pictures)
The biggest disservice history did to Vladimir Nabokov’s legendary 1955 novel Lolita was make it the definitive example of jailbait in pop culture. When you see the name ‘Lolita,’ you think of the famous poster for Stanley Kubrick’s 1962 film adaptation with teenage Sue Lyon in a bikini and heart-shaped sunglasses holding a lollipop. The image paved the way for more of this kind of provocative media exposure including Jodie Foster in Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976), Brooke Shields in Louis Malle’s Pretty Baby (1978), Mariel Hemingway in Woody Allen’s Manhattan (1979), Dominique Swain in Adrian Lyne’s Lolita (1997), Mena Suvari in Sam Mendes’ American Beauty (1999); and Cynthia Nixon in David Rabe’s 1984 Broadway play Hurlyburly, as well as Anna Paquin in Anthony Drazan’s 1998 movie version. What you don’t think of with Lolita, is how obvious of an unreliable narrator our male lead, Humbert Humbert, is and how he’s trying to paint the tween as this juvenile seductress to cover up his own immoral tendencies. This generally goes for most of the movies I mentioned as well. But unfortunately, most people took Nabokov’s text at face value—or not even that, just refer to the general plot summary—and think there are real ‘Lolitas’ out there with naughty intentions.
Over the years, we’ve also gotten the other end of this concept, showing us it’s usually much more likely the teen girls in these scenarios are not mature looking and wise beyond their years; but in over their heads and naïve, with the older men having no business being near them. Joyce Chopra’s Smooth Talk (1985) and Gia Coppola’s Palo Alto (2013) are a couple examples that come mind. Even Terrence Malick’s Badlands (1973) and Donald Petrie’s Mystic Pizza (1988) to lesser extents. But sometimes even the woman’s perspective misses the mark. Marielle Heller got criticism for featuring too much sexuality in The Diary of a Teenage Girl (2015) back in its release. Sad to say, Jamie Dack’s Palm Trees and Power Lines out this month is similar and not one of the better anti-Lolita pictures we’ve received.
(Momentum Pictures)
Dack’s feature should work based on the set-up we’re given. 17-year-old Lea (Lily McInerny) is wasting time at home the summer before her senior year of high school. She suntans, smokes and talks trash with her friends and ignores her mom, Sandra (Gretchen Mol); whom she also gives a hard time for dating a lot of men. Lea is an average teenager, so we primarily see her in a T-shirt and jeans or a tank top and shorts, and in swimsuits lounging outside with her best friend, Amber (Quinn Frankel). There’s nothing particularly ‘sexy’ about her, although she’s obviously pretty. In these kind of stories, usually the author will portray the young girl as completely virginal or already sexually active. In Palm Trees and Power Lines, Dack and co-screenwriter Audrey Findlay opt for the latter, giving her some agency. By the time Jonathan Tucker’s 34-year-old Tom shows up, we expect to see an attractive and/or charming stranger win over the innocent, ordinary girl, similar to Martin Sheen’s Kit in Badlands or Treat Williams’ Arnold in Smooth Talk. But the problems with Palm Trees already begin to show with Tucker’s presence. Whether it’s his casting or Dack’s direction for his performance, there’s no charisma or romanticism from Tom for the audience to see why Lea would begin to fall for him.
Tom is too wide-eyed with intimidation from the get-go, so we don’t get a real moment or factor in why Lea wants to secretly meet up with him intimately, other than him being more experienced than her male classmates. Lea herself seems like a bright girl beyond the usual teen angst, so she should see through the cracks of all the cliches and pick-up lines he uses. By the time he’s convincing her to stop hanging out with her friends and runaway with him on weekends, there is no make-over. She still looks 17 and he is clearly 34. The good thing about Palm Trees is there isn’t a point where the audience receives any glamorized impression of the pair. There a couple of different ways this cautionary tale could end, and unfortunately, Dack & Findlay’s resolution to recall Taxi Driver and Sean Baker’s Red Rocket (2021) from the female POV doesn’t work for me. The final scene is even more frustrating because it almost feels like the filmmakers are suggestively victim blaming.
The best part of Palm Trees and Power Lines is the lead performance by McInerny, who successfully holds her own and is a natural in front of the camera. We’re effectively uncomfortable during the sexual scenes because Lea looks her age, but in reality, McInerny was surprisingly 22 years old during filming. Having a similar vibe to young Scarlett Johansson, McInerny has potential to form a nice little indie career ahead. Sadly, that’s about all Dack’s feature length film debut has going for it in the long run. All of the themes featured were dissected better in Smooth Talk, Red Rocket and Badlands, and the direction isn’t any more distinguishable from either Coppola lady. While it’s good we’ve moved on from sexualizing teen girls in entertainment and are now focusing more on the realistic interpretations of the young woman/older man trope; it appears there are still some bumps along the way with the executions.