Review: Submarine

I guess the surface-level Wes Anderson comparisons were inevitable. A cast of highly literate outcasts? Check. Dry, understated dialogue? Check. Use of stylish title screens to separate acts? Check. If you'd never seen Submarine, Richard Ayoade's big screen debut, you might assume that all the components were in place for a cynical exercise in indie tweeism.

You'd be wrong, though. While Ayoade has clearly been sharing some of Anderson's cinematic syringes, Submarine bobs along to its own ebbs and eddies, seemingly informed as much by books as by other films (not least Joe Dunthorpe's novel, on which the movie is based). Set in Swansea, the film follows hyper-obsessive teenage misfit Oliver Tate as he attempts to woo his red-coated, pyromaniac femme fatale of a classmate Jordana Bevan and takes it upon himself to save the failing marriage of his stately, quietly desperate parents.

Ayoade, having gained recognition through acting in great TV comedies like The IT Crowd, The Mighty Boosh and Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (which he also co-wrote and directed), has settled snugly into the bigger boots of feature film direction. Despite his having graduated from TV work and music videos, there's no hint of the small screen anywhere in Submarine.

The film's visual style is well-defined and stunningly executed, Ayoade capturing the hazy essence of teenage summer holidays with lovingly crafted sunset shots of kids rattling around empty industrial estates and Swansea beaches. But far from Wes Anderson's immaculately poised sequences, Ayoade's camera often breaks away from the widescreen reverie to follow the film's characters by hand, imbuing many sequences with a vibrancy and dynamism that keeps the film from feeling too detached.

Submarine's enviable aesthetics are matched by an attention to character that provides the drive for an otherwise laconic narrative. Oliver's bookishness and pretensions to high culture hide an extreme social ineptitude that borders on disability. In fact, the character often brought to mind Mark Haddon's 2003 book about a child with Asperger's Syndrome The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time in his inability to relate to the world around him and his attempts to repair complex problems with simplistic solutions. Oliver's faking of love letters between his parents and telling his mother, earnestly, with hand on shoulder, that his dad "still wants to make love to you" provides some of the film's comedic highlights. Similarly, his relentless shadowing of Graham Purvis, a sleazy self-help guru (seriously, how useful are sleazy self-help gurus for comedy?) and old flame of his mother's, draws out the character's extremities without seeming contrived.

Oliver's personality disorders make for a satisfying burgeoning relationship with his confident, regal crush Jordana, as he struggles to come to terms with the fact that real-life relationships don't sync up with the grand fantasies he has borrowed from novels and movies. Still, while Oliver and Jordana's relationship faces real-life knocks and compromises, it's brimming with an affecting, old-fashioned romanticism that's primarily concerned with the unique sentiment of young love, no matter how short-lived it's destined to be.

Although Oliver's relationship with his parents, who have resigned themselves to a joyless marriage of barely masked irritation, provides the film's most socially realistic moments, it doesn't feel jarring. Viewing the world almost exclusively through the bizarre kaleidoscope that is Oliver's perspective has a unifying effect on the scenes. Even when the film is exploring depression and despondency (which Oliver's dad likens to being underwater - water being a theme that runs through the film from its title to its final scene), there's always a winning surrealism at work that regularly draws humour from the most unlikely situations.

Impressive performances abound. Craig Roberts's portrayal of Oliver is the standout - Roberts displays an incredible gift for comic timing as well as a rock-solid grasp of character, and carries the film effortlessly. Yasmin Paige imbues Jordana with a teenage mystery that makes it easy to understand why Oliver has fallen under her spell, and a frostiness that gives her scenes with Roberts a sharp edge. Paddy Considine ably performs as the film's comedic powerhouse, making Graham Purvis as garish and unappealing as the ridiculous van he drives, while Sally Hawkins and Noah Taylor wring the drama from their understated performances as Oliver's parents.

That Submarine mixes touching human drama with genuine hilarity with such precision and expertise speaks to its director's confidence on the big screen. Just like Edgar Wright before him, Ayoade has made the transition from TV to the silver screen with his own style and a sensibility that's both distinctly British and unapologetically cinematic.