While it is accompanied by challenges, there is something genuinely compelling about that ambigious space between adolescence and adulthood, where we spend a few years trying to find our footing in the world, being mature enough to understand some of life’s harshest realities, but still possessing a kind of naivete that prevents us from entirely being able to comprehend others. This is certainly far from a universal privilege (since being able to enjoy the recklessness of youth is not a guarantee), but rather an experience shared by many regardless of background or upbringing. It is also the foundation for Desert Blue, in which director Morgan J. Freeman (in his sophomore directorial endeavour, which comes after his well-received debut in Hurrican Streets) tells a wonderfully endearing story about a small town located somewhere in the Californian desert, which is home to a very small population, but where each one of them has eccentricities that make them unique. The story follows a group of characters throughout a couple of days, with the primary focus being on a prospective movie star and her father, who are taking a road trip through the region and find themselves momentarily stranded amongst this community, and discover that there is a lot more nuance to this quaint hamlet than they initially anticipated. Hilariously offbeat and frequently quite moving in ways we may not expect, Desert Blue proves to be a wholeheartedly delightful endeavour, handcrafted by a director who may not be particularly well-known (especially considering he shares a name with quite a notable actor), but whose gift for telling such an intimate and intriguing tale defines the film and makes it such a quietly poetic excursion into a particular time and place, with particular emphasis on the people who populate the segments of society that are very rarely (if ever) captured in such vivid detail.

Desert Blue is one of the many films that stand in the shadow of Dazed and Confused, which may not be the first instance of the “teenage hangout” film (which is more likely American Graffiti, which was arguably an inspiration on many of these films), but is both the most well-known and highly influential, for several reasons that are clear based on nearly every attempt to revive the same energy on screen, a formula that has proven effective on many occasions and inspired an entire sub-genre of cinema that continues to be extremely popular with audiences from many different generations and backgrounds, proving that these films touch on universal themes in a simple but effective manner. The idea of a story that bounces between different perspectives of people living in the same general proximity and taking place over a short period is very appealing, since it allows for a lot of experimentation, albeit in quite an orderly, structured format that prevents it from becoming too unwieldy for the director to handle. However, the impetus behind this film (as well as all others) is to capture a particular time and place – and in this instance, we explore the fictional town of Hamlet, located at the heart of the desert and which considers itself relatively self-sufficient and independent, and therefore tends to clash with outsiders once they step into their town, which is particularly notable considering one of the main plots of the film centres around an unexpected death and the ensuing investigation, giving Desert Blue a clear structure, albeit one that isn’t restrictive as far as Freeman’s intentions go when exploring some of the more esoteric elements. More than anything else, this is a film about a group of teenagers exploring their identities and desires, all taking place on a couple of dog day afternoons in which there is nothing to do other than relish in their youth and hope that they won’t ever lose this curiosity or lingering desire to make a difference in a world that they are still trying to comprehend.

One of the great pleasures of watching one of these smaller independent films based around younger characters is that we are likely to encounter a few actors who would go on to become quite notable delivering very early work, and therefore being witness to some of their first forays into acting, which is always a delight. In the case of Desert Blue, there are more recognizable faces than we can name – Kate Hudson is the de facto lead alongside Brendan Sexton III (who is surprisingly the least notable of the main cast, despite being the central character after which the film is named), with the likes of Peter Sarsgaard, Ethan Suplee, Casey Affleck, Christina Ricci and Sara Gilbert appearing as other quirky residents. Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor has one of her first performances as a very dedicated FBI agent, while industry veterans Michael Ironside, Daniel Von Bargen and John Heard add some heft to the otherwise very young and inexperienced cast. However, it’s not the fact that the cast is quite familiar that makes Desert Blue so effective, but rather what is done with them that allows it to feel so wonderfully endearing – every character does represent quite a clear archetype, but Freeman uses these recognizable tropes as a way to subvert our expectations – what starts as initially very inane eventually flourishes into quite a moving character study, in which the director carefully pieces together quite an elegant affair, and one that carries a lot of weight in what it represents, rather than just being a merely offbeat excursion. The actors are all willing to go the distance for the director, who in turn aims to do very solid work with the material, which turns out to be surprisingly deeper than we expected.

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Desert Blue is how it manages to be both plotless for the most part, but still have a clear structure. It’s not the first case of a film trying to balance what many would consider contradictory approaches to the narrative process, but it feels somewhat impressive considering the director was not an established expert, but rather a rambunctious young filmmaker who managed to succeed where some of the canonical masters have faltered. The film achieves this by prioritizing the atmosphere above everything else – the performances are great and the screenplay delightful, but the impact is made through the offbeat sense of humour and the fact that this is propelled mostly by the mood and tone, both of which are a blend of different emotional cues that, when collected, create such a vivid and intriguing atmosphere that we can’t help but become entirely bewitched by this film and everything it is attempting to say. Desert Blue came at a time when independent cinema was undergoing one of its most significant revolutions, and therefore anyone working within this section of the industry was afforded a more liberal set of resources, being allowed to openly experiment, a particularly appealing concept to those in charge of finding the most exciting and innovative voices in low-budget filmmaking. Freeman does struggle with a few elements, but for the most part, the design and construction of this film in terms of its thematic content and underlying narrative cues, and how everything is bound together, is incredibly effective and frequently lends itself to fascinating character development that only strengthens this film from the core.

Desert Blue has faded away slightly, not being viewed as a particularly notable achievement, and instead blurring into the multitude of well-crafted independent comedies that all centre around young characters discovering their identities and exploring their innermost quandaries, but is covertly a story of a particular time and place and the people who occupy it, which is always fascinating. It’s not surprising that it hasn’t registered as a bespoke piece, since on the surface it seems very familiar, particularly since it is built from the collision of two very clear narrative structures, namely the quirky small-town comedy and the hangout film, both of which are the primary driving force behind this story, and the reason it manages to feel so unique, but also very familiar in several ways. There’s something so delightfully captivating about how Freeman crafts this story, which turns out to be quite a meaningful affair in many ways – the humour is fresh and invigorating, but touches on slightly more serious issues such as the desire to escape one’s circumstances or how someone can overcome their demons to embrace a delightfully irreverent future that they feel they deserve. It’s not particularly daring filmmaking, but it is solid and well-crafted, and Freeman deserves another look based on his very distinct style and the fact that so many of his contemporaries flourished while he essentially faded into obscurity. Charming to no end, but also not afraid to have a serious conversation, Desert Blue is very impactful, and deserves a reappraisal, especially from audiences that will be entirely enamoured with the quirky nature of this story, as well as its abundance of heart.