Dinner in America

An on-the-lam punk rocker, and a young woman obsessed with his band, fall in love and go on an epic journey together through America's decaying Midwestern suburbs.

At first glance, you might want to dismiss Dinner in America as overly-broad and ridiculous, apeing that familiar “indie film misfit” style reminiscent of notable quirk comedies like Ghost World or Napoleon Dynamite, with this one in particular being nothing more than just a romanticized story of punk rock kids in the mall parking lot and their tempest-in-a-teacup rebellions, and… that’s not completely off.

But…

There is also an authenticity to this film that I liked. From the bland dead-inside apathy of the damp suburban fall setting, to the palatable simmering undercurrent of rage and discontentment underlying everything, to the casual bigotry, ableism, and homophobia that, for good and for evil, peppers the language of basically every characters.

Broad? Maybe. Dead-on accurate? Fuck yeah.

On top of all that, there’s a sweet sheen of innocence too, as two lonely artists find each other, little suburban Sid and Nancys, their every moment having been spent practicing their A for Anarchy in their notebooks, now clinging to each other as they rail against the chains of their shared fly-over country destiny. The leads are really great here, once again… there’s an authenticity of them that I liked, and they also have a charming chemistry that their characters’ “quirks” never overwhelm.

So, big thumbs up there.

Overall, this film is sweet and cute and funny, with lots of heart, a little bit of rose-colored nostalgia, and a healthy middle finger toward the usual bits of white suburban life. It’s not re-inventing any wheels, but it’s a good time. I enjoyed it.

And much like with similar scenester-adjacent films, like SLC Punk for example, you’ll probably hear some hipster wadjob claim this film isn’t “accurate” or some shit like that, but that’s because hipsters are empty-shell loser trash assholes. That having been said, being an old man, I really wanted main character Simon to take a shower, as I could practically see that familiar punk rock stink emanating off him in waves. Sometimes authenticity goes too far.

There’s nothing wrong with a regular wash, people.