Wyrm

In an alternative 1990s, Wyrm is an awkward teen struggling to deal with family trauma, while trying to complete a school requirement, or risk being held back and enduring a lifetime of embarrassment, in a world in which students wear electronic collars that only detach once they get their first kiss.

Wyrm is a 2022 film.

I originally saw it at Fantastic Fest on a Saturday afternoon back in 2019. I imagine I had a couple of beers, some Vegan Buffalo Cauliflower, and a couple of peanut butter banana cookies.

Delicious, but I digress…

I bring this up not just to highlight the amount of time that can pass between when a film is made, when it’s on the festival circuit, and when it is finally (if ever) released to theatres and streaming, but also to say that perhaps some films belong on the festival circuit, mostly because it’s a weird little gem maybe best left to the weirdos who seek such things out. Because WYRM is definitely a weird little gem, one that handles its clashing tones pretty well, but whose strange world and general awkwardness is perhaps a little too far afield for the casual movie fan.

Also, I swear I saw a different version in 2019 than the one I recently watched here, and I think it might have been a better version.

Alas… c'est la vie.

Set in an alternate reality of 1990s suburban America where kids wear collars that only unlock upon their first kiss, Wyrm is the last incoming ninth grader who still needs to complete his level one sexuality requirement. It’s government policy, y’see. Posters trumpet the intent to “protect the future!” And promise “No child left alone.” Because lonely children are dangerous. Especially lonely boys. But unfortunately for Wyrm, he’s a creep, a nerd who carries a tape recorder everywhere, so as a result, his collar remains locked… maybe forever.

Also, his uncle is taking care of him and his twin sister. They eat nachos and salad every night. His twin sister has friends, but secretly writes hate mail to her classmates. His dad is either always at work, or in the bathroom. His mom is on walkabout, but she calls occasionally, and promises to be soon… someday. His older brother died in a car accident, and his dead brother’s now wheelchair-bound girlfriend is the only person who is ever nice to Wyrm.

They are a family in crisis.

Comparisons to films like Napoleon Dynamite are inevitable when it comes to this sad little deadpan comedy about adolescence, loss, and the ways people process grief. Those comparisons are not totally undeserved either, with the same readily apparent twin streaks of fetishism and nostalgia on display, as well as similar styles and humor. Still, Wyrm mostly works. It sometimes doesn’t go far enough, hinting at some deeper ideas, which may happen in some other version left to rot on a hard drive somewhere, but for the most part, it mostly nails its metaphors. Mostly.

In the end, the pieces are better than the whole, but still, Wyrm is funny and sad, even if it’s sometimes a bit difficult to nail down exactly what the film is trying to say.