Growing up is never easy – this seems to be a sentiment that we frequently discuss, which is likely a result of the coming-of-age story being one of the most common narrative structures, primarily because it is somewhat universal. Anyone who has reached adulthood will likely recognise the experience of navigating those wonder-fueled childhood years, as well as the awkwardness of adolescence. This is something that Julian Glander sets out to explore in Boys Go to Jupiter, his astonishing directorial debut, in which we are introduced to Billy 5000, who is on Christmas break. However, rather than spending it luxuriating in the Florida sunshine with his teenage friends, Billy is far more focused on making some money, which he intends to use to become independent, moving out of his sister’s garage and making his own future, without the help of anyone else. He does this through working for Grubster, a food delivery service, in which he’s noticed an unusual glitch that will allow him to earn much more than he expected. Over the course of a single day, Billy moves around his working-class neighbourhood, interacting with the strange and delightful residents whom he serves, while also dealing with personal challenges, such as a difficult domestic situation and the gradual development of romantic feelings for one of his clients, an ambitious scientist named Rozebud, who sweeps him off his feet. Between all of these experiences, Billy begins to realise that there is so much more to life than what is presented to him, manifesting in a film that is as audacious as it is deeply moving. It is astonishing to imagine this film as a first feature – the style (which is delivered in very simple animation) coupled with the strong, complex story that hints at ideas far deeper than any of us may have imagined at first, all go into making Boys Go to Jupiter not only the strongest debut of the year, but also one of the best films overall, a daring and entrancing blend of outrageous humour and profound pathos, a perfect combination that Glander and his cohorts are more than willing to use as the foundation for this film’s extraordinary and deeply compelling worldview, which has never felt more genuine than it is under his careful, deliberate and meaningful direction.

There is a point in the teenage years which I often like to refer to as the “liminal wilderness, the awkward stage between adolescence and adulthood, where our identities truly take shape, and we can get a stronger idea of where the future is heading. It’s a difficult period, and one that tends to be almost impossible to represent on screen in any way that isn’t explicitly quite heavy-handed, despite it being a universal experience. It only makes sense that Glander would choose this as the foundation for Boys Go to Jupiter, which presents a single day in the life of an ordinary young man trying (or perhaps struggling is a more appropriate term) to make sense of a confusing and hostile world that surrounds him. Life can be a challenge for those of us who don’t quite fit into the preconceived boxes laid out before us – but this only makes stories around these people more interesting, since it provides far more fertile ground for discussion and analysis. The themes that drive this film are clear – a lonely young man does his best to lay a foundation for an uncertain future, and discovers that even the most resourceful and well-conceived plans can sometimes be derailed by something as simple as a minor technical error, or as enormous as the act of falling deeply in love. Glander is purposefully being as elusive as possible as far as intentional dramatic tension, choosing to focus on immediate ideas rather than those that expand far greater than the scope of the film, which is a smart and purposeful decision that ultimately bears extraordinary results, especially in how it plays as a tribute to films like Dazed and Confused and American Graffiti, the gold-standard for coming-of-age stories, in which we follow a group of people over the course of a single day, which could be viewed as a microcosm of the entire experience of growing up in a world you simply cannot understand until you reach the point where everything falls into place, even questioning whether this moment actually is real or is just a fabrication built from years of being told that once we reach a certain point, everything will just begin to make sense. Whether or not that is true is left entirely to our interpretation, which is the exact kind of ambiguity that leads Glander to craft such a memorable narrative throughout this film.

It is during this period that we tend to discover who we are, through simply allowing ourselves to be confused and unsettled by the changes happening not only around us, but also within. It’s a brilliant approach and more than enough to help propel the story. Glander understands that such a narrative can only be built through strong characterisation, which is precisely where most of its strengths ultimately do reside. At the very heart of the film, we find the character of Billy 5000, brought to life through extraordinary voice work by Jack Corbett, whose slight monotone and vaguely blase delivery conceals his quiet insecurity and vulnerability. There’s a tendency to turn protagonists of coming-of-age stories into precocious, overly quirky characters in fear of a quieter one being too alienating to the audience. This proves not to be the case with this film, which is a far more engaging affair, and one that knows exactly how to hold our attention, even at points where we would expect something far more profound to emerge in the process. The rest of the cast is also just as strong, being given fascinating characters – and it actually reads like a rogue’s gallery of contemporary comedians and actors who are going to play as vital a role in forging the next generation of filmmakers as Glander, with names such as Julio Torres, Tavi Gevinson, Joe Pera, Miya Folick, Demi Adejuyigbe and Cole Escola (as well as many others, as the entire cast is very strong) being tremendous additions to a film that benefits from their willingness to participate, even if some of them are in relatively trivial roles that intentionally lack depth. The character designs themselves are extraordinary – no two characters look the same, which is not only a result of the director having fun with the construction of these individuals, but also a subtle reflection of the film’s core themes, which are all about this young man making his way through a world that looks entirely unfamiliar, and finding hope in places that he did not ever expect to find it. Characterisation is a vital element of any coming-of-age story, and Boys Go to Jupiter deserves every bit of acclaim for the authenticity and complexity of how it chooses to position not only its fascinating protagonist, but also the people who exist in his orbit.

However, what ties everything in Boys Go to Jupiter together – and indeed the aspect that lingers with us most afterwards – are the emotions. There’s a trend in coming-of-age stories to focus on broader emotions – the joyful moments are filled with enthusiasm, the more downbeat moments are bordering on tragic. Glander finds the perfect middle-ground, enshrouding the entire film in a more subdued tone that not only feels more authentic, but also places the viewer in a vaguely meditative state, one on which we are forced to pay attention to the smallest and most seemingly insignificant details that turn out to have far more relevance to both the plot and the ideas represented throughout than we initially imagined. It’s a peculiar approach, but one that fits in perfectly with the ideas that Glander is intent on using as the overall foundation for the film. The core of Boys Go to Jupiter is an active attempt to reconstruct the experience of growing up, but in a way that is dynamic, daring and frequently quite uncomfortable – and through a more pensive atmosphere, we not only find ourselves feeling the same meandering sense of banality (especially since the story revolves around Billy making a series of food deliveries), but trying to reconcile the various emotional cues with the story being told, which allows for a dynamic and daring atmosphere that feels so much more engaging and interesting. It’s a poignant and captivating little comedy with an immense sense of purpose, which gradually and methodically becomes clearer as the film progresses and we see the extent to which it is willing to challenge and provoke without ruffling too many feathers. There’s a sensitivity within this film that feels so much more engaging than we would initially expect – Glander is clearly driven by his own memories of adolescence, and while it isn’t entirely autobiographical, his recollections do form the foundation of the film, which becomes gradually more impactful as the story progresses and we see the extent to which it is willing to go to provide meaningful observations on these challenging parts of everyday life.

In a year with some extraordinary debuts to exciting new voices that are going to change the face of cinema, Boys Go to Jupiter is perhaps the most enthralling introduction, since it feels like it is genuinely saying something new, delivering a story that is as bold as it is deeply compelling, doing so with a careful blend of style and substance that feels far more entertaining than many of the recent coming-of-age dramas we have seen produced year after year. The visual design is incredible – it is simple, but the use of colour, shape and structure makes each composition absolutely unforgettable, as well as allowing the director a freedom to explore this story in a way that would not be possible in live action, which is particularly relevant to the more surreal, absurdist elements that linger over every frame of this extraordinarily compelling film. The music is also incredible, with original works by a range of artists (many of whom also have voice roles), as well as a delicate but compelling score by Glander himself, contributing to the overall atmosphere of the film, which is driven by a very particular mood that becomes more poetic as the story progresses. Glander is an undeniable talent, and his work here firmly establishes him as someone whose perspective is not only valuable, but outright important to how we perceive cinema as more than just a one-dimensional examination of common themes, but rather a dynamic dialogue between the audience and the work we are seeing, which has the power to reflect our entire existence in a way that feels truly quite extraordinary, even at the most immensely offbeat moments. It’s a brilliant film that is built from a firm foundation of coming-of-age stories that inspired it, coupled with the director’s own bespoke observations that establish a firm and compelling atmosphere, all of which becomes the basis for one of the year’s most truly unforgettable masterpieces.