Hello folks and welcome to Multiversity Comics’ weekly review of I Am Not Okay with This, the coming-of-age Netflix original series co-created Jonathan Entwistle and Christy Hall, based on the graphic novel of the same name by Charles Forsman. This week, we look at episode four, “Stan by Me.” As always, our wide ranging, free flowing discussion could touch on anything from the cinematography and acting to editing and production design, not to mention the script and the soundtrack. Please be warned, however, there may be occasional spoilers.
1. Hot Dog, Jumping Frog, Albuquerque
Ahhh, so this is what the infamous “Risky Business” dance montage could’ve looked like. Thirty-seven years after Tom Cruise danced around his parents’ living room in his tighty-whities, Wyatt Oleff shows us what’s up in a thoroughly unguarded, captivating performance to kick off episode four.
Honestly, this dance montage is better that the one it obliquely references in about a hundred ways, and it all begins with the perfect song. Recorded at the tail end of the first New Wave era in 1988, Prefab Sprout’s “King of Rock ‘n’ Roll” is a synth-heavy alt. pop classic with an infectious dance hook, soaring harmonies and performative, tongue-in-cheek lyrics. I mean, if Stanley Barber was a song, he would probably be this one.
Alone in his parent’s house with no adult supervision, Tom Cruise’s Joel Goodsen pours a ridiculous amount of Chivas Regal into a glass, cranks Bob Seegar, plays air guitar and totally bros out. Stanley, on the other hand, shakes a martini in his robe, sings into his shampoo bottle, tries on various outfits and rehearses asking Syd to the homecoming dance all while getting his groove on.
It’s yet another brilliant, peek-behind-the-curtain at Stan and sets the tone perfectly for the real time, back-to-the-present scene that follows.
2. Maggie Bares Her Soul
Meanwhile, it’s suddenly Monday morning. Syd has overslept and Maggie, needless to say, is working a double. Of course, Maggie also needs Syd to make sure Liam gets dinner, “Not just a mustard sandwich like last time.” Having relayed her instructions, Maggie hurries away and Syd says, under her breath, “I’m practically his mom.”
Dang, Syd. That’s not cool. No mother that I ever met is gonna let that one slide. So, Maggie rushes back, asks Syd to repeat whatever she just said, and totally lets loose. Predictably, little brother Liam tries to play peacemaker, but Maggie brushes him off and continues unloading on Syd.
For the most part, it’s all pretty standard mother-daughter stuff, with weaponized phrases like, “I know me working 60 hours a week isn’t ideal for you” and “this is about your attitude,” until Maggie drops the bomb. “When it comes to your father, you have this gift, this selective memory, but he wasn’t who you think he was.”
Zing! It’s far from unexpected. We knew something like this was coming. Still, Maggie’s word choice feels more than a little bit odd and definitely intriguing. She describes her dead husband as a man who could be funny and sweet, but he could also be vacant. Maggie further describes how he often didn’t get out of bed, though she never uses depressed, miserable, sad, melancholy, lethargic or any of a dozen other descriptors that may have shed light on his actual condition. Instead, the vague and mysterious “vacant” hangs in the air.
3. Brad and I Talked, So That’s Good
“The trick is to be normal,” Syd tells us as she walks down the hall of her high school, trying to reassure herself more than anyone else. As she continues to grapple with her new reality, however, clearly it’s not that simple. Obviously, Stan is always eager to help, but Syd keeps shutting him down, leaving only Dina, and I think we can all see how that’s going to turn out.
Unfortunately, Dina continues to be the most two-dimensional, predictable, unrealized character on the show. She’s a “type” more than a person and the script seems determined to keep her that way. Her lines are often terse, without much subtext, making her seem more shallow and unintuitive than she should be. It’s an irritating combination for a primary character in the first place, especially when the audience knows how much Syd really likes her. Clearly, Dina is meant to be much more than a friend, but it’s increasingly hard to remain oblivious to Dina’s persistent shortcomings.
Continued belowWithout bogging down in too many minor details, when Syd shuts herself in a bathroom stall after fleeing science class on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Dina finally arrives, with impeccable timing. Banging a little too loudly on the stall door the very moment Syd pulls herself together, Dina half-heartedly checks on her friend. Hearing an answer that seems as flimsy as the bathroom partitions, Dina is satisfied everything is okay and quickly turns the conversation onto herself. First, she tells Syd – wholly unprompted – that she’s back together with Brad, and then goes on to suggest she’d also like to discuss their mutual kiss on the bed at the party, noting that she and Syd left things in a weird place.
Needless to say, Syd’s not in a position to deal with any of this, so she blows it off, nervously rushing to end their conversation any way that she can. Her tense, jumbled words sound panicky and stressed out, yet Dina can’t let go of her own needs long enough to track any of Syd’s actual feelings. Instead, she reflexively slips a tampon underneath the stall door and asks no further questions. Adding, “Um…feel better…,” as an afterthought.
Dina, we want to root for you, I promise, but you gotta give us something.
4. Wait, When You Said Research, I Didn’t Think You Meant . . . Comic Books
Honestly, I could write five thoughts about the bowling alley scene alone. In many ways, the entire episode is mere prologue for this scene. It’s not flashy or action-packed, but all of it works together beautifully. From pop culture references and gorgeous production design to pitch perfect editing and the kind of cinematography that makes fans go bonkers for Wes Anderson films, this scene’s got everything. Even the awkward silence and chirping crickets are well played. What’s more, it totally zags. Just when you start to think you know exactly where it’s going, it toys with your expectations and goes in a different direction. It’s fresh, unexpected and heartfelt. A perfect midpoint to the series that sets up the final push toward the last three episodes.
5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
For me, this was the strongest open sequence of any episode yet. The previous installment ended on a great cliffhanger. The natural tendency is to grab that momentum and keep things barreling forward. In this case, however, the story flashes back to several hours before Syd laid waste to an acre of old growth hardwoods. It’s disorienting at first, in a good way, and pays off wonderfully later as the scene transitions back to the present. The script is well constructed and the editing rock solid. Stanley practices asking Syd to homecoming one last time in his car, in the school parking lot, and she answers him in a scene we saw in the previous episode. Then, with lightning fast precision that brings us back up to speed, we loop around to the moment when Stanley watches Syd unleash her super powers – a scene that’s wholly new and gives us new information. In truth, it’s a common structure that’s been used many times before. Here, it’s just done really well, throwing us head first right back into the action after a well crafted comedic interlude. Great tone. Great execution. Great storytelling.
Parting Shot
Episode number four is the one where the youngest kid decides to make dinner. Naturally, as dictated by TV tradition, his one-pot concoction must include: macaroni, cheese, A1, ham, corn, margarine, cinnamon, fish sticks, soy sauce, grape jelly and “something in a jar,” but he’s not sure what. Seriously…? This is the age of YouTube. Why not have the kid make a chicken piccata that blows everyone away? Has no one ever seen “Master Chef Junior?” It’s time to let this trope die. The creators squandered a chance to give Liam some depth and make him more interesting. Instead, it all descended into the uninspired cliché we’ve seen a hundred times.
