The opening shot of Bruiser is one that contains a whole story. It is a simple yet potent introduction where we observe three figures from above, all of whom are unknown to us, that are laying out in a field. Had one not stood up to survey the scene, without saying a single word and going unacknowledged himself, they could have almost passed as action figures that have been tossed away. The precise details that underlie this short introductory sequence will only be fully understood once the film has unraveled before us and looped back to an echo of this moment. Yet this is part of what makes this feature debut from writer-director Miles Warren that expands upon his short of the same name such a poetic one.
First premiering back at the Toronto International Film Festival, Bruiser is a film that looks at the perils of growing up when the people guiding you are nearly as likely to wander astray and fall down in the field of life as you are. Just as it uncovers something tragic in the potential that anger and fear can be passed down through generations, it also takes time for moments of beauty. It is a work that immerses us in the enduring complications of what it means to be a young man.
This is primarily seen through the eyes of the shy 14-year-old Darious (Jalyn Hall) who is just trying to find his way in the world. While on break from boarding school, this mostly means seeking to connect with friends, doing video calls with a crush from school he is now away from, and futilely asking his father Malcolm (Shamier Anderson) to get him a new bike that is more his size, and learning to drive with his mother Monica (Shinelle Azoroh) watching over him. However, while all this is going on, he is also struggling to open up about his feelings.
Just as this may seem like typical teenage troubles, like when he bristles at the playful interest his mother has in his crush, there is a growing sense Darious is feeling lost and alone. When he gets in a brief yet brutal fight with another local kid who is bigger than he is, Warren starts by shooting from afar before pulling us in closer and closer, so we feel every blow even as we don’t always fully see them making contact, he then wanders off by himself. It is there Darious discovers the boat-dwelling Porter (Trevante Rhodes) who offers him advice and support when he is at his lowest. The two begin to form a bond that carries with it a more complicated history as their meeting turns out to be much greater than a chance encounter.
Going into specifics about what this not entirely unexpected revelation turns out to be is far less important than the way in which it is all presented. More than just the narrow aspect ratio that works perfectly in tandem with the rich visuals from cinematographer Justin Derry and an evocative score by composer Robert Ouyang Rusli, it is the delicate way key moments play out that ensures it manages to move beyond some residual bluntness. In particular, the scenes where we just see Darious and Porter alone together are where the film excels.
Whether it is when discussing the best way to fight or a joyous time spent at a brightly colored fair, it creates a fleeting naturalism that we know will not last forever. There is a quiet tension to these sequences as Rhodes instills the character with a real charm and wit that masks a darkness he carries with him. We get this in brief snapshots of his past that he either reveals himself out of a desire to connect with Darious or out of desperation that he not be solely at the mercy of being described by others. The film is then about how he is both juxtaposed against Malcolm and more similar to him than either man would ever care to admit.
Though each has taken different paths in their lives, this matters little when push comes to shove and both men try to muscle the other out. This isn’t strength, but it is merely their own weaknesses masquerading as toughness. Caught in the middle of this is Darious, who is just trying to find someone to help him process life’s challenges, only to discover that the two male figures in his life don’t have many of the answers either. Just as he will try to forget about everything for a while as he goes with Porter on a Ferris wheel—the classic location of many a movie before it—this soon carries with it a bittersweet somberness that sneaks up on you.
No matter how many glimmers of life can be found in the happy memories Darious is making, they are perpetually tenuous ones. A simple conversation he has with Porter becomes complicated when he begins to clumsily say he cares about him and wants to be there for him. The thing is, it feels like it is more that he needs Darious to be there for him than vice versa. Still, the scene is a tranquil one that offers a sliver of what could be. When Malcolm then shows up and this moment is shattered, it is Darious who must pick up the pieces.
The burden he then tries to carry, which is represented literally at one moment, is just too much. What makes the film work is that it never lets itself get dragged down by such weight, instead keeping light on its feet and becoming graceful when we least expect it. Be it when observing the world speeding by as the characters go on motorcycle rides or when everything slows way down in the chaos of a brawl, Warren demonstrates a great degree of patience in letting these moments linger. When it all comes back to the moment we saw at the beginning, now seen from a more grounded perspective founded upon the wisdom of having to grow up fast, there is a tentative sense of hope for the future. It is a reincorporation that also reimagines what is possible for young Darious and, one senses, all of us as well. Though Bruiser doesn’t provide any easy resolutions, it's a beautifully shot work that grapples with fatherhood, masculinity, and growing up that emerges as a fittingly flawed cinematic gem.
Rating: B+
Bruiser is available to stream on Hulu now.