There has been few concepts that have corrupted the social psyche more than that of suburbia. The idealistic image of charming houses situated behind white picket fences, inhabited by representatives of the perfect nuclear family based on a Norman Rockwell-esque social utopia, has never been feasible. Yet, those who dare to speak out on the promises of such a life are often entirely ignored – this is why the likes of David Lynch and John Waters (among several others, since there was a movement around the era of New Hollywood where filmmakers addressed certain domestic issues) are so revolutionary, since they not only refused to fall victim to these misleading beliefs that suburban life is optimal, but they have actively looked at the concept through their films, subverting the standards and making several wildly complex and deeply fascinating satires that have inspired generations of artists that followed. One person who was drawn to this line of thinking is Adam Carter Rehmeier, whose directorial debut Dinner in America is one of the most unheralded achievements of the year. Released two years after its initial encounter with audiences, that seemed to misunderstand what the director was trying to say with this peculiar but captivating dark comedy, the film is a masterful example of going in search of oneself at a time when doing so feels increasingly strange, but also seems logical. Rooted in punk rock and darkly comical satire, Dinner in America is provocative and endearing, blending genres and drawing on a range of complex themes in its continual search for an America that many claims exist in theory, but yet no one has ever been able to unearth it, precisely because the image of perfect suburban life is a fallacy, composed of a string of broken promises built by decades of idealistic hope that conformity will eventually result in perfection, when in reality nothing has ever been more fatal than the dependence on mindless obedience, the exact concept that Rehmeir and his collaborators are actively fighting against throughout this peculiar and brilliant dark comedy.

“Why try to fit in when you were born to stand out?” – it’s a cliched adage (and populates the walls of many an insecure teenager), but it’s one that applies quite significantly to Dinner in America, which is essentially a film about questioning society’s treatment of those who don’t fit into the preconceived boundaries of what is considered normal. Rehmeier is very interested in looking at the concept through the use of dual perspectives, focusing on two characters that encounter each other by chance, but find themselves forming a deep connection through their shared inability to find a place in a very harsh, hostile version of society. One is a violent punk musician on the run from the law, while the other is an insecure college dropout who is the subject of ridicule by everyone in her community, including her own family. At a cursory glance, they’re very different characters in terms of temperament, behaviour and personality, but they share the pivotal detail of both being deeply detached from the rest of society, to the point where their friendship (and later romantic relationship) is formed on the basis of neither of them being all that acceptable by social standards, but yet finding each other at a crucial moment and helping develop a sincere appreciation for their own quirks. Dinner in America is very much a film about individuality, and the director always redirects the film (which can become quite outrageous at some points) to this overall theme, with the intention of looking at the lives of a few outcasts, noting the importance of embracing one’s identity – those who adhere to the status quo are depicted as boring and lacking in personality, mindless drones of a vicious, monochromatic system – and it’s those who are in command of their eccentricities that bring colour to these scenarios, this film serving as a charming love-letter to the most peculiar members of society, for whom Rehmeier seems to have nothing but the most immense level of respect.  

Drawing on this concept, it was vital that Dinner in America cast the roles correctly – this film navigates a delicate boundary between pushing boundaries and being outwardly perverse, and it was imperative that the characters (who serve as the vessels for these many themes) were fully-dimensional, and played by actors that could effectively bring these characters to life. Neither of the leads of this film are that well-known, but they are recognizable enough from previous work in film, television and occasionally on stage, enough to give them some degree of credibility when it comes to playing these characters, who are extremely odd, and needed people who would be able to humanize them in a substantial and meaningful way. Kyle Gallner does his best impression of a loose-cannon, vaguely psychopathic young man, playing the part of Simon (who possesses an alter ego of John Q, under which he performs as the lead singer in a punk band), and finds a very curious charisma under the layers of peculiarities that define the character. Emily Skeggs is conversely playing a socially-awkward young woman whose entire life is spent navigating one hostile scenario to another, only to find that the most compatible match comes in the form of someone who is as diametrically opposed to her in terms of outlook and attitude as possible. The supporting cast is populated by a range of terrific actors – Mary Lynn Rajskub, Lea Thompson, Griffin Gluck and Pat Healy all have terrific moments, playing characters who may have small roles, but who are undeniably very compelling in a way that feels genuine and earnest, contributing to the wonderful tapestry of suburban America and its many bizarre residents, who may be heightened under this film’s gaze, but which still reflect some sense of reality.

More than anything else, Dinner in America is a film about suburban ennui, and the process of moving beyond the conventions of everyday life in order to realize one’s own individuality and overcome the challenges that tend to appear once you decide to step away from socially-mandated routine. Rehmeier draws on many sources of inspiration in his construction of the story, with the foundation of the film being a two-pronged approach of the coming-of-age narrative and the rebellion packaged within the punk sub-culture, the latter being a direct response to the placidity of suburban life and its refusal to abandon what it considers rational behaviour. The director is drawing on the duelling themes of characters that exist outside the margins of decent society and the people that surround them, and he uses a mix of comedy and romance to create a very strong depiction of their growing companionship, which is then combined with smaller and more incidental elements like a psychological thriller and crime themes to set a very clear foundation for some of the more peculiar moments. However, Rehmeier is always in control – he’s not someone who seems to be compelled to just throw a range of ideas at the screen and see which ones stick, but rather someone with a very precise and almost cutting-edge approach to crafting a story, one that seems like it is going to go off the rails, but always manages to pull itself back where it matters the most, which is integral to the central themes of the film as a whole, and the elements that so much of Dinner in America is trying to accomplish, without actually getting to the point where it is completely enveloped by its eccentricities, which is usually a common fatality when it comes to these small-scale, ambitious independent comedies about outsiders, which only further proves the exceptional virtue of this film.

Dinner in America is a strange curio of a film – it seems like it is almost insignificant, evoking the spirit of the countless darkly comical coming-of-age narratives we find regularly produced (especially since it seems every millennial filmmaker starts their career with some self-reflecting story about youth, at least in recent years), and it certainly doesn’t immediately convince us otherwise. However, after a while it starts to become more clear what the film is aiming to achieve – there’s a level of complexity that exists beneath the surface that is quite peculiar, but which starts to make sense once we venture further into the story. This is a film made with a lot of heart and soul, which is cleverly concealed under layers of absurdist humour and outrageous scenarios, which may be quite challenging for those who prefer more subtle approaches to these kinds of narratives, but where this execution is ultimately all part of the many surprises lurking beneath the surface of the film. There is an unexpected sense of nuance that guides this film and makes it such an unconventionally charming and intriguing experience. The earnest storytelling, the hilarious performances and the dedication to certain narrative and conceptual pastiches make for a wonderfully effervescent and deeply moving story of young adulthood, and the challenges that come with embracing one’s individuality, which is all part of the experience of living through those treacherous days of early adulthood, a period that we can all recognize in this film in some regard, only making this a more enriching and compelling glimpse into the lives of a pair of misfits who find their comfort through simply surrendering to the fact that they are never going to be popular, which is something worth celebrating, since the mainstream is far too overrated in the first place.