My Old Ass has some fresh takes on time-worn indie movie conventions

What few teen-centric movies exist in the 2020s can never escape the shadow of John Hughes. The titles typically feel like the umpteenth Breakfast Club pastiche, rather than being as specific to 2024 teenager experiences as Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was for 1980s teens. “And they say that a hero will save us,” as Chad Kroeger once sang for the Spider-Man soundtrack…and a hero has come along for this subgenre in the form of writer/director Megan Park. Her 2021 directorial debut The Fallout unflinchingly explored the varying psychological responses teens have to surviving a school shooting.

For her second feature, My Old Ass, Park’s opted for a more comedic ambiance. However, she maintains a welcoming decidedly modern aesthetic in her writing. Once again Park has delivered a quality teen-oriented movie that doesn’t just evoke 1980s nostalgia.

In just a few weeks, 18-year-old Elliott Labrant (Maisy Stella) will leave her cranberry farm family life in Connecticut behind to pursue an existence as a Toronto college student. To celebrate this birthday, Elliott and best friends Ro (Kerrice Brooks) and Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) camp out in the woods and do shrooms, as you do. Initially, Elliott is disappointed her drug trip isn't producing any results. Suddenly, though, her older self (Aubrey Plaza) starts talking to her. This drug trip has allowed Elliott to communicate with herself across time!

During this fateful night, the two versions of Elliott chat about life. Such a conversation entails older Elliott giving her teenage counterpart some sage advice. For one thing, she should be nicer to her family, and spend extra time with mom. Oh, and don’t go near some guy named Chad (Percy Hynes White). It’s all vague and not nearly as salacious of a glimpse into the world of tomorrow as Elliott wants. Naturally, this teen thinks the following morning that this interaction was just a drug-fueled fantasy. An eventual phone call from her older self, though, proves that this exchange was very much real. Now Elliott must figure out how to live in the present. Does she follow her gut or strictly adhere to the wishes of her future self?

Typically, costume design only gets recognized in award shows or in general film criticism when it comes to period pieces. However, contemporary costume design is an equally commendable art form, as nicely exemplified by My Old Ass. Costume designer Tasha Goldthwait (reuniting with Park from The Fallout) gives this summertime comedy's characters nicely distinctive outfits that effectively communicate their personalities. Elliott, for instance, always drapes her body in overalls, baggy T-shirts, or sweatshirts adorned with amusingly crass phrases like “jugs”. Her attire instantly screams “Gen-Z queer” and nicely captures Elliott’s typically chillaxed attitude.

Ro, meanwhile, has a necklace containing pieces reflecting various phases of the moon. Elliott's decidedly cis-het younger brother Max (Seth Isaac Johnson) opts for long pants and shirts coated in subdued colors. There's something striking about the various outfits in My Old Ass, especially in how unafraid they are to evoke modern sensibilities. These teens don’t cover their bodies in logos or brands rooted in 80s or 90s nostalgia. They have their own distinctly modern obsessions in fashion and life, the latter reflected in elements like Elliott's younger brother Spencer's (Carter Trozzolo) crush on Saoirse Ronan.

Committing to these qualities gives My Old Ass an instantly unique air among modern teen movies. It also ensures that Park’s various characters don’t bleed into one another. Idiosyncratic fashion styles alone differentiate the features’ assorted teens, as does Park’s writing. There’s a specificness even to supporting folks like Chad or Elliott’s mom that’s deeply moving. The movie's dedication to very particular character details even includes Elliott engaging in a Justin Bieber musical number. It’s not just a fun set piece to watch thanks to the glamorous execution of the sequence. It’s also a specific song that feels exactly like what a girl born in 2006 would cling to. How specific! Plus, it's a great departure from Hollywood's obsession with giving modern young people the same music tastes as guys raised in the 80s (see: Florence Pugh's character in A Good Person).

This approach to distinctive creative elements even extends to the precise variations in young and older Elliott.  Their banter proves incredibly amusing thanks to 39-year-old Elliott’s lived-in wisdom clashing against teenager Elliott’s more surface-level inquiries about the future. This approach means that the My Old Ass script wisely avoids the Adam Project problem of making young and old versions of the same character doppelgangers of one another. Never go full Adam Project. Never ever.

Not every facet of My Old Ass, though, is as memorably unique as the rapport between the Elliott’s. Most notably, this motion picture is a bit of a wash visually. Though not terrible looking by any means, My Old Ass certainly reflects some unfortunate visual trends in modern comedies. The lighting is often too bright, images are overly crisp, and there’s an unfortunate tendency to rely on cramped close-up shots even during the simplest conversations. Move that camera out and let multiple people inhabit the same frame!

Thankfully, these shortcomings don’t necessarily undermine the greatest qualities of My Old Ass. This includes a fantastic lead turn from Maisy Stella. In her first major film role, she's been handed the mighty task of carrying nearly all of the feature. She succeeds with flying colors on that front, in the process demonstrating an especially impressive grasp of comic timing. It's also great how Stella commits so thoroughly to letting Elliott resonate as a jaggedly messy and often unlikeable teenager. That's how people are at age 18, disjointed human beings only living for the moment. Stella's performance reflects that with impeccable deftness. Park’s intimate scope for this story lets one appreciate these finer nuances of Stella’s performance and the rest of the cast’s work. Confining this tale just to lakeside exploits in Connecticut is a supremely correct call.

Stella’s deeply memorable work as Elliott epitomizes the idiosyncrasies fueling My Old Ass to such creatively fulfilling heights. It’s a well-oiled comedy that even nails moments of pathos and introspection without turning the whole movie into a soggy sentimental mess. The Fallout fans like myself can rest easy…Megan Park’s My Old Ass is a worthy follow-up to her directorial debut. And it doesn't just feel like a John Hughes rerun, what a concept!