“I’m sorry you had to meet me at this point in my life – although I’m pretty sure you would have hated me anyway”

These words appear at the start of the climactic moments of Shortcomings, the ambitious directorial debut of Randall Park, who adapts the graphic novel of the same title by Adrian Tomine, who tells the story of a young man named Ben who is forced to be born into a world he will never understand, and asked to be a person that he knows he would hate if he was someone else – yet, his entire life has been defined by the quest to discover who he is beneath this veneer of self-deprecation and internal loathing. In what is sure to be seen as one of the year’s most surprising debuts, the always-reliable Park proves to be not only capable behind the camera, but quite brilliant. A comedy that is simultaneously hilarious and haunting, driven by a sense of curiosity that never quite abates, and instead only grows as we integrate ourselves further into the world in which this film resides, which is one propelled by the smallest and most intricate human interactions. It’s a simple comedy with many broad ideas, which Park beautifully encapsulates, detailing the main character’s journey to something very close to self-actualisation, using his own existential crises as fuel for an engaging and moving narrative that reminds us of the unimpeachable brilliance that comes with a story that is well-told, and a filmmaker who understands every nuance of the process in bringing such a story to the screen. Unquestionably one of the year’s best films, it is difficult to not be surprised by Shortcomings, a film that takes us on a profoundly intriguing journey into the life of an ordinary young man who has found himself facing many unexpected obstacles, each one revealing itself to contain valuable lessons that he has to learn to assimilate into his everyday life, or else face the risk of never encountering that sense of satisfaction and muted joy that he has been in search of for his entire life, this film representing one segment of his otherwise fascinating but complex existence.

As the quote at the start of this piece implies, Shortcoming is a film based on the concept of self-reflection and internal conversation, focusing on those moments in which we are alone with our thoughts, and the challenges that come about when the narrative we tell ourselves begins to fall apart. This is a blisteringly funny film, but one that builds itself on a psychological examination of the main character, watching as he navigates the world that surrounds him, making sense of the various challenges he encounters, most of which are self-inflicted and therefore can only be resolved through some kind of introspection. It’s a straightforward concept, and one that manages to be very funny, but it never goes about investigating these themes in a way that feels heavy-handed, instead choosing to curate a few selected moments in his life, over the course of a few months that could either represent the turning point into a new stage of his existence, or be yet another series of interactions that contribute to his steadily shifting sense of identity, which is constantly called into question. The film manages to be very consistent in how it constructs the character of Ben, viewing him as a dishevelled but compelling protagonist that is extremely complex, even though he seems quite ordinary on the surface. The film achieves this by refusing to entirely let us into the main character’s mind in the way we’d expect, instead exploring a season in the life of someone who simply has grown tired of the existential malaise that comes from the simple act of being alive and not knowing in which direction your life is going to go, and unlike the beautiful films that he frequently immerses himself in, there isn’t any voice waiting off-screen to give him direction for the next chapter. Ben is not someone who has ever been able to define himself along any coherent terms and instead has thrived most consistently by fading into the background, patiently waiting for the moment of greatness that will leap at him, rather than daring to take the risk on his own. Park’s direction is fascinating, and he works closely with the source material to construct a beautiful and poetic film that never loses sight of the humour that lays at the foundation of the story, which works in conjunction with the more serious themes to be an actively engaging portrait of a young man trying to find himself in a world where he fails to understand even the most basic aspects of being alive.

Shortcomings had an inherent challenge in the part of the central character of Ben, who is a very complex individual that doesn’t quite fit into any preconceived categories of what a cinematic protagonist should be, and Park refuses to reconfigure the character to be more appealing. He is a deeply unlikable individual who possesses traits that are far from admirable, and whose self-centred approach to living his life is the reason he is inherently at a disadvantage, doomed to be in a state of perpetual anguish and despair, never quite achieving anything that he envisioned for himself. The reason it works on screen is primarily because Justin H. Min is beyond committed to this part, delivering a performance that is bound to draw attention to his skills as an actor, perhaps more than any of the work he has done previously – he is terrific in After Yang and Beef, but he truly turns in an exceptional performance here, delivering a nuanced and balanced depiction of a character that could have been insufferable with even the smallest of changes, but comes across as unconventionally endearing and truly relatable, which is the key to the success of this film, and the reason it feels so genuine. The authenticity of the performances is not only restricted to Min, since the entire cast is tremendous – Sherry Cola in particular (whom we spoke about earlier this week in her scene-stealing role in Joy Ride, in which she plays the complete opposite of this mild-mannered, intellectual voice of reason) is fantastic, and it would be truly surprising if she wasn’t seen as one of the breakthrough actors of the year, her sudden but incredible rise to becoming one of the most exciting talents working today being more than deserved. We also see solid work from Debby Ryan, Tavi Gevinson and Ali Maki as the protagonist’s two love interests, both of whom are far more complex than simply being objects of his affection, and turning in strong performances that feel genuine and captivating, while never losing the spark of humour that underpins nearly every major element of the plot. Yet, it all comes back to Min, whose dedicated, complex performance is driven by a genuine sense of understanding this character and being willing to lean into both his quirks and flaws – considering the film is focused on shortcomings, it only makes sense that it would not waste the opportunity to take a more complex approach to how it constructs its protagonist and his individual journey to self-realization, or at least something in its general existential proximity.

Considering the vast amount of work that went into the creation of this film, it is surprising that it still manages to be an effervescent, charming comedy that never quite takes itself too seriously to actually create the tension that the main character believes his existence causes – if anything, the few scattered moments of melancholy are intentional reflections of his shattered psychological state interweaving with his bizarre delusions of grandeur, which result in a hilarious but still very touching depiction of a young man teetering very close to a breakdown, but still managing to hold himself together on the sheer willpower of proving to the rest of the world that he is not to be underestimated. It is not surprising that Tomine wrote the screenplay himself since it only seems logical that the original creator would be the perfect candidate to bring it to the screen, and unquestionably the best person to capture the tone of the original material. Throughout this film, Tomine and Park walk the very narrow boundary between deadpan humour and melancholy, both of which are essential to the atmosphere created by the film. This allows it to be far more emotionally resonant, and distances it from the typical “walk and talk” approach to these witty independent comedies, and instead goes in pursuit of something much deeper. Park’s influences are clear – Shortcomings has overtures of early Woody Allen films, particularly in the earlier portions where we become familiar with these characters, as well as other influential independent filmmakers like John Cassavetes, who lingers throughout the film as one of its main inspirations, with Park even outright referencing the pioneer of independent filmmaking with the use of a scene from one of his most personal films. Yet, what makes Shortcomings so intriguing is how it forges its own identity, establishing Park as a major new talent behind the camera, his work being concise and meaningful in a way that we don’t always see from debuts. It only proves how so many of our most gifted filmmakers are often the most unexpected.

Shortcomings is an extremely compelling film that manages to balance both humour and pathos to create a vibrant, meaningful examination of the existential quandaries a young man takes while on a metaphysical journey to discover who he is beneath the cloud of angst and depression that has driven him to the point of complete uncertainty. On the surface, this seems like an extremely simple film, one that doesn’t offer us more than it is willing to deliver, but rather just enough to provoke thought and make us reflect on our own life, which is likely defined by similar crises of identity and a feeling of aimless wandering through a world that stopped making sense the more we tried to understand it, one of the many contradictions that come with life. It’s a blisteringly funny film, one that pays attention to all the small details, using them as the foundation for many of the hilarious moments, as well as those more melancholy interludes that exist in between, which gives the film so much nuance and makes it feel so much more authentic, which is the greatest asset a film like this could possess, since it actively reflects reality in a way that is always extremely resonant, both in how these interactions transpire, as well as the emotional content of the interactions between these characters. Well-written dialogue, strong performances and direction that evokes a strong atmosphere from which the film is able to extract many meaningful moments, Shortcomings is one of the year’s best films, a charming and insightful comedy that offers us unique perspectives on the human condition, demonstrating how art can define our lives and change the way we view the world – we all tend to romanticize our existence, and this film explores the connections we form with one another, as well as with ourselves, which often tends to be an even more complex relationship. Bitingly funny and always very meaningful, this film is extraordinary, an easygoing but deeply meaningful examination of the very nature of being alive, an experience that is never easy to navigate, but in this unpredictability we find so much value, which helps make sense of this intensely strange but enriching world in which we reside.