“The Wackness” simply tells the story of two unhappy people. Actually, it’s not that simple, not in the least. It’s more accurate to say that it tells the story of two human beings who get through life as best they can, which is still not good enough; two men--one a teenager, the other middle-aged--are stuck in dreary situations with absolutely no one to turn to except each other, and in doing so, they give each other exactly what they need. The challenge for writer/director Jonathan Levine was telling this kind of story without turning it into a clichéd buddy flick, and believe me, it easily could have gone in that direction. What we’re instead given is a complex, thoughtful, and at times touching examination of two mismatched friends that somehow connect with one another. Levine shows some real talent here, crafting characters that we may not identify with but still care about.

The story takes place in New York City in the summer of 1994, back when Rudy Giuliani was elected as Mayor and hip hop and rap sounds ruled the music scene. As the oppressive heat and humidity beats down on the city, eighteen-year-old Luke Shapiro (Josh Peck) gets by as a drug dealer, specializing in marijuana. Despite a huge clientele, many of which went to school with him, he has no real friends to speak of; he gives them pot, they give him money, and that’s that. He’s virtually nonexistent to his parents, who spend most of their time fighting with one another. I distinctly remember the first moment we see his parents. Luke enters his apartment and walks between them on the way to his room: neither one of them pauses to say hello to their son. They just bicker about their financial woes, which the father (David Wohl) is responsible for.

Only one person seems to take an interest in Luke, and that’s probably because he has problems of his own. Jeff Squires (Ben Kingsley) is a psychiatrist who has worked out a system of receiving marijuana in exchange for Luke’s therapy sessions. But his therapy is not of the classic variety; Squires believes that the only prescription Luke needs is to live the life of a normal teenage boy, and that definitely includes sex. As it turns out, Squires is after the same thing, seeing as he’s trapped in a loveless marriage with his wife, Kristin (Famke Janssen). He claims to hate her, but as the film progresses, we begin to feel that he only hates what she’s become, that he would like nothing better than to recapture the spark that brought them together in the first place. Unfortunately, that seems incredibly unlikely. All he has left is his own pain, which he continuously numbs with prescription medications and an assortment of illegal substances.

Interwoven with this story is a subplot exploring the developing relationship between Luke and Squires’ stepdaughter, Stephanie (Olivia Thrilby). You can tell how differently each person views the relationship: Luke believes he’s falling in love while Stephanie just kind of rolls with the punches, having fun but not necessarily loving him back. She claims that it doesn’t matter where their relationship is heading because they’re already there in the moment. “I see the dopeness in everything,” she muses, “and you just see the wackness.” That may be true, but doesn’t he have every reason to see the world that way? Doesn’t her stepfather? He warns that Stephanie will eventually get bored and break Luke’s heart, which doesn’t show much trust on his part. Then again, it’s doubtful he trusts anybody, least of all himself.

At one point, Squires tells Luke the one thing that makes life in general seem abundantly clear: “Sometimes it’s right to do the wrong thing, and right now is one of those times.” Is this to say that sometimes it wrong to do the right thing? It seems that both characters grapple with this, because they eventually have to make some serious decisions. Luke, for instance, is now only weeks away from going to college, and the status of his relationship with Stephanie remains to be seen. So does the future of his drug dealing business; while never explicitly stated, both he and the audience seem to know that he can’t do that forever. At the same time, Squires must come to terms with his failing marriage, and in the process learn to cope without numbing himself. I’m not exactly sure whether or not he succeeds. By the end of the film, we suspect that he’s long since been doomed to a life of depression and hopelessness.

Granted, that’s not a very positive outlook. But if you think about real life, which sees many people needlessly suffering, it’s understandable how someone could fall into that emotional trap. It’s always a matter of wanting to escape, to claw your way out of the trap and start going in a different direction. That could require you to do the wrong thing, but even if it does, at least you’ll realize that you’ve gained more than you lost. In spite of their troubles, Luke and Squires gain each other’s friendship, albeit a very unconventional one. Luke himself gains wisdom and maturity, and while it’s unclear how he’ll use them in life, it seems certain he’ll remember what it took to gain them. This is the kind of message you’d expect to have screamed at you, but that isn’t the case with “The Wackness”; this movie is calm and quiet in its delivery, allowing you to hear the message without feeling attacked. For everything it accomplished on levels of story, character, and pacing, the quietness is what I appreciated the most.

- Chris Pandolfi