The third indie feature of the quartet at the top of my Netflix queue was available instantly and is one of those films that I found out about through my two years plus activity on Spout. Up until some group discussion or blog or list exposed me to it, I had never heard of Welcome to the Dollhouse, but when I read about it and saw it available on Netflix, I queued it up because I'm all about the lonely loser genre. Perhaps, I like these types of films because at least a germ of this archetypal character appeals to me, since I recognize some of myself in the type. And, of course, because these characters are so resonant and relatable, I always hope that such a character will find their redemption by the end of the film in a way that would leave me hopeful – not so much in terms of sudden fashion awareness or a fabulous and life-changing makeover or something that alters the character's physical appearance. Instead, I hope that the character in question--like Dawn Wiener in this film--would find acceptance for who and what they are. Unfortunately, as this film painfully reminds the viewer, kids are mean. No, really, kids can kind of suck in their attitudes toward one another, especially pre-teen kids on the crest of puberty. Since humans fear what they don't understand, and since children don't understand quite a bit, it's only natural that someone with intelligence and individuality would frighten children closer to the mean of the curve. This film, however, poses the question: what happens when the lonely losers bring it on themselves, at least in part? Are they still sympathetic or just plain pathetic?
Dawn (Heather Matarazzo) is the quintessential awkward pre-teen. At 12, she's unusually intelligent but about as socially awkward as they come, and her fashion sense screams mismatched clearance rack. She's bullied at school, nicknamed "Wienerdog" by most of her classmates, and forgotten at home, the middle child between an angelic, younger sister named Missy, who is doted upon by her mother, and an intelligent older brother named Mark with expertise in computer science. Frequently, these circumstances produce feelings of rage in Dawn, and she's prone to inappropriate outbursts and some projected bullying of her own, even when she knows it's wrong. When Mark forms a rock band and solicits the services of the popular Steve (Eric Mabius – Daniel Meade!) to sing and play guitar, Dawn misinterprets his half-hearted listening ear as possible romantic (and even sexual) interest in her. All the while, Dawn's most incessant harasser seems obsessed with her, threatening to rape her initially while later sneaking kisses from her when others are not looking, and all throughout this process, Dawn remains true to her awkward self, unlikable and, yet, excruciatingly familiar to anyone who once attended junior high.
Welcome to the Dollhouse reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite, only more insightful (and less annoying), and Rushmore, only less quirky and with a heroine slightly less lovable. Yet, there is a major difference between these others films and this one: screenwriter and director Todd Solondz never allows Dawn a break. Dawn never finds true redemption or that predictable happy ending common to John Hughes films. The story, in fact, is not so much about Dawn at all but about the growing pains of growing up, and each heart-wrenchingly desperate decision of hers, whether based in pure emotional reaction or on an attempt to conform to what she perceives is "normal," rings true, even when Dawn herself sometimes makes you want to throttle her for her actions stemming from an unadulterated lack of common sense. The film also never takes the easy way out – the cause of her social ineptitude is not necessarily her parents, like The Breakfast Club would want you to believe, and it's not her economic status, like Pretty in Pink portrayed. Dawn is no Molly Ringwald or Ally Sheedy. Dawn is simply Dawn, a flawed character, who strives toward a sense of normality and tries too hard in the process.
Heather Matarazzo delivers a mature, powerful, and sincere performance as Dawn, and it was a far more interesting role than some of her later characters, such as her sidekick turn in The Princess Diaries. She inhabited this role in a way that pierced the heart, and if it weren't for her, the film would have faltered and floundered by its conclusion. The acting by the supporting players was passable to good, but the lynch pin of Welcome to the Dollhouse is how resonant Dawn's experiences are to the viewer's memory, and Matarazzo portrayed Dawn's misguidedness and vulnerability in a way that effortlessly invited that connection.
There were no technical elements that stood out for me; it's a low-budget flick that made great use of an existing junior high school. It was cringe-worthy to watch some of those mid-90s hairstyles and apparel choices, such as flannel shirts and Scrunchies, grace the screen, but it could not be helped. Even if the then-current costumes now seem dated, Dawn's struggles are timeless.
I have two minor complaints about the film. The first is the pacing, which is mostly consistent until Missy gets kidnapped, quite possibly due to Dawn's spiteful neglect in passing a message to her sister from her mother. Never mind that it's somewhat odd that Dawn seems to feel absolutely no guilt about her role in the situation-even when she decides to find Missy in New York, she dreams of her mother's adoration at locating her lost pet rather than showing remorse--but what is strange is that in this moment, the film slows to an inexplicable crawl as the film's final quarter elapses toward its conclusion. The second complaint I have concerns the abrupt nature of the conclusion, which seems out of sync with the slowed pacing preceding it and the way the film unfolded throughout. The story took an odd turn that did not seem to gel with the rest of the film (except for Dawn's impassioned pleas to her bully suitor), and then, when Dawn appears to learn some unexplained lesson and resumes her belabored journey toward adulthood, the film simply ends. While the abrupt ending felt oddly satisfying, in that it was true to Dawn's particular idiom, it also felt like whiplash compared to the preceding 20 minutes.
These are but small complaints, though these perceptions on my part did prevent me from entirely loving the film. I still liked the film quite a bit, though, because if Dawn did not remind me of me, she certainly reminded me of people I went to school with that had some of her same personality quirks and foibles, and that were galvanized and ostracized, and it certainly makes you rethink that time in your life when being a human could be overwhelming. I think Welcome to the Dollhouse, therefore, earns an 8 on the patented ratings scale for minor flaws/very good, and as to the test…meh, I don’t know. I don't think it's one I would find myself watching repeatedly enough to buy it, but it was certainly an entertaining and emotional watch, evoking long-lost memories all while reminding me that, seriously, kids are mean. I mean, I really think this film could practically be a documentary, am I right? Who's with me?