A24 Film No. 2: Ginger and Rosa (2012)

 

What a nice switch in vibes to get to this coming-of-age movie that talks about those female friendships that leave a mark on you while growing up, but also about the anxiety of living in the world, and how that contradicts the idea of freedom and infinite possibilities when you're young. While it seems like a simple story and is very pleasant to watch because of its aesthetics, the film actually portrays interesting aspects of growing up.

Ginger and Rosa tells the story of two friends born at the same time who grew up together, becoming best friends. Their friendship is situated in the context of the 1960s and the Cold War, so their experience as teenagers is deeply marked by the fear that the world might end, deep political polarization, and a growing activist spirit. It is a lovely exploration of those friendships in which you find “your person” to explore and understand the world, while also learning about your own place and identity within it.

At the beginning of the movie, they do everything together: matching outfits, almost never being apart from one another. But as expected, as the film goes on, they begin to realize how differently they see and perceive the world. Ginger becomes engaged in activism and in the need to do something, while Rosa takes a more spiritual and religious approach, only wanting to love and feel loved. Of course, both responses reflect the absences and marks of their own childhoods and family structures.

One of the most interesting aspects of the film is this pervasive sense of anxiety and hopelessness about the future. The protagonists are in their teens, and while they experience a sense of freedom and a desire to explore and know the world (especially at the beginning of the movie), this is constantly limited by the fear of nuclear war and the end of the world. “We could all die tomorrow,” Ginger says, while worrying precisely because she does not want to die. I see many teens from our own time reflected in Ginger, in this feeling that the present seems so violent and overwhelming that the future offers very little. “Happiness is not an option” when you know about the bomb, Ginger mentions. While in Spring Breakers we see young adults mainly looking for freedom, testing the limits of the system, and trying to escape it, Ginger and Rosa present the opposite reaction. Here, youth is not equivalent to “living forever”; instead, it is deeply charged with fear for both the present and the future.

At some point, it seems that all characters, even the adults, have lost track of how to live life. Everyone is too focused on their own grief and beliefs for anyone to be fully functional. Ginger’s father is an obnoxious intellectual who cannot understand anything outside his theories. The activists Ginger meets are portrayed almost exclusively talking about activism and endlessly reflecting on what it means. The mothers are also strikingly absent or limited: Rosa’s mother is completely absent from the film, while Ginger’s mother tries to ignore some of the uglier aspects of her family and surroundings. At the same time, she seems to be one of the few characters concerned with the present in a practical way, asking Ginger’s school to teach domestic classes that could give her useful skills for the future. The girls learn from the adults around them, imitating and repeating the patterns they observe. This becomes another way of understanding how the idea of the “coming of age” is constructed and socially determined by those around us.

One aspect of the movie that I really enjoyed is its use of color. The almost pastel-like palette makes everything feel like a dream, or perhaps a memory of youth (maybe even Ginger’s, looking back at the poems and thoughts she wrote when she was young). Visually, many scenes are composed so that Ginger’s hair predominates. This makes sense, since she represents the future and hope, even though she is also the character who suffers the most from the fear that the world will end. In one scene, an activist tells her that she could eventually move from her nickname, “Ginger,” to “Scarlett” because she is fire. I think this comment encapsulates how the director wants us to understand Ginger’s character: as a force that can transform the world. In contrast, Rosa is portrayed as gloomier, immersed in nostalgia and stuck in the wounds from her past, carrying a sadness that influences her way of engaging with the world. Ginger’s hair color also shifts across scenes, reflecting the emotional tone of what is happening at each moment.

This is a movie I would have completely loved at the same age as the protagonists. All those existential questions and worries, such as what happens when we die, and how we choose to approach and answer those questions, shape how we grow up and, ultimately, the adults we become.

Dir. Sally Potter

Elle Fanning, Alice Englert, Annette Bening