Movie Review: Jonah Hill’s "Mid90s" is a Hypebeast’s Origin Story

Jonah Hill's first film as a director, Mid90s, highlights his many personas, without him ever appearing onscreen.

You don’t need to have lived through the 1990s to enjoy the cinema of 2019, but it helps.

Take Captain Marvel, which time-travelled back to 1995 just so we could appreciate that year’s extremely specific delights: the music of No Doubt; flannel shirts tied around waists; Samuel L. Jackson only looking 46.

Now, Jonah Hill is doing the same with his feature directorial debut Mid90s, though he’s not working with enough of a budget to de-age anyone via CGI, let alone the deathless, perpetually spry Sam Jackson.

Instead, Hill finds other ways to turn back the clock on a shoestring budget. For his story of five skater boys navigating their antagonistic-at-times friendships in 1990s Los Angeles, he’s decked out his stars in era-specific skatewear, filmed them slacking off in a nostalgically boxy aspect ratio, and given all female characters 'Rachel' haircuts (and by 'all' I mean 'the two with speaking parts').

Sure, you could accuse it of empty artifice from its start. That’s when 13-year-old Stevie (Sunny Suljic) gets wailed on by his abusive older brother Ian (Lucas Hedges), each punch accentuated by a Street Fighter-esque "thwack" sound effect, highlighting that, yeah, this isn’t exactly cinema verite.

I do believe, however, that Mid90s accurately captures the things that made Jonah Hill into who he is today: a hypebeast with his very own personality cult. The youth assemble to imitate him; brands call on him to star in their ads. The skate tapes, hip hop music videos and indie cinema of the '90s formed Jonah Hill, and his opening salvo as a filmmaker, Mid90s, reflects that.

It may not be an autobiography, but there’s something authentically 'Hill' here. At times, it appears that Mid90s is playing dress-ups as 1995’s despairing Kids (its screenwriter, Harmony Korine, has a cameo). Yet Kids is a bummer, and Mid90s, unexpectedly, really rolls when it embraces comedy, despite its many disturbing moments. The quintet of core actors even have Hill’s comic timing down pat. Newcomers Na-Kel Smith, Gio Galicia, Olan Prenatt and Ryder McLaughlin play the unfortunate role models to Stevie (who looks like a small, nice Sean Penn), and their offensive, improvised-seeming conversations bring to mind—and call into question—Hill’s own starring vehicles, like Superbad and Knocked Up.

To many, a picture effectively starring five 'Jonah Hill' types will sound absolutely hellish. Calling it that doesn’t give the actors enough credit; particularly Smith, as the only member of the skate crew with common sense and a bright future, or Suljic and Hedges, with their roiling fury under placid surfaces. And it wouldn’t be giving Hill enough credit either. His movie is fleet-footed, often funny, endearingly sincere, and honest in its depiction of toxic male friendships. There’s a beautifully framed sequence capturing the boys doing ollies over a dangerous rooftop gap, and the soundtrack—including Wu-Tang Clan, Mob Depp and The Pharcyde—gives the pic its relentless energy.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t entirely stick the landing, skating around some salient points about the intoxicating allure of acceptance amid peer pressure before cutting abruptly to credits. Reasonable viewers will balk at a sexual awakening sequence that skirts pretty close to straight-up abuse. (Hill's defence: "I'm not a moralist.") And there's homophobic language throughout; especially problematic (or is it a sign of personal acknowledgement and accountability?) given Hill’s own history with slinging slurs. Shamefully, that latter aspect of the era rings true. Mid90s is about a time—both culturally, and in the characters’ lives—when we weren’t our best selves. Hill, in 2019, is at least becoming his.

3.5/5

In Australian cinemas 4 April. Rated MA15+ for strong coarse language.