Plot
Summer war games between neighbourhood kids turn deadly serious when jealousy and betrayal enter the mix.
Release Year: 2012
Rating: 6.2/10 (575 voted)
Director:Jason Lapeyre
Storyline
Armed with nothing more than twigs, their imaginations and a simple set of rules, a group of 12-year-olds engaged in a lively game of Capture the Flag in the neighborhood woods start dangerously blurring the lines between make-believe and reality. Paint-filled balloons = Grenades. Trees = Control towers. Sticks = Sub-machine guns. The youthful innocence of the game gradually takes on a different tone as the quest for victory pushes the boundaries of friendship. The would-be warriors get a searing glimpse of humanity's dark side as their combat scenario takes them beyond the rules of the game and into an adventure where fantasy combat clashes with the real world.
In the tradition of "Stand by Me" and "Lord of the Flies" comes a
poignant dark comedy that puts a timely spotlight on the games kids
play and the consequences of seemingly innocent actions when fun gives
way to danger.
Jason Lapeyre and Robert Wilson co-directed from a Lapeyre script.
Wilson is an accomplished producer -- this is his second feature
directorial effort (he serves as a producer on this as well). This is
Lapeyre's followup to his first narrative feature "Cold Blooded." The
movie had debuted as a work-in-progress print at ActionFest in North
Carolina in April, where it took home the jury prizes for Best Film and
Best Screenplay. It went on to a triumphant premiere at last month's
Toronto International Film Festival. It took top honors here in Texas,
winning the Fantastic Fest Audience Award.
The premise of "I Declare War" is deceptively simple -- a group of kids
gets together on a regular basis to play war games in the woods,
challenging each other in mock battle with harmless paintballs and tree
branch bazookas. We used to play cowboys and Indians with water guns
and toy pistols. Some of us graduated to Civil War reenactments. We
turned out okay. So when these youngsters choose to head out into the
forest and get a good physical workout trying to steal the opponents'
flag from their home base, while most of their peers are engrossed in
role-playing games on their computers, this looks like a marvelously
healthy alternative.
But boys will be boys, as they say (okay, there is one girl), and the
situation inevitably turns sour. Rivalries turn real as jealousy, love,
and loss come to the fore, and some players take the game one menacing
step further. The timely topic of bullying suddenly rears its ugly head
as we see its root causes on display before having the chance to look
away. As in 2004's "Mean Creek," one of my all-time favorite indies,
innocent joy turns to potential tragedy as the line between fantasy and
reality blurs both on screen, for the viewer, as well as in the minds
of the youngsters.
What the kids begin to see in their minds -- a stick of wood is
suddenly a rifle, a paintball is a real grenade -- is reflected in the
film itself. This is just one of the many masterful strokes that sets
"I Declare War" apart from its brethren and makes it such a powerful
cinematic experience in its contribution to a rich cinematic tradition,
the classic morality play writ large when the protagonists are
vulnerable adolescents.
This character-driven study on the limits to which a man/boy can be
pushed rests on the abilities of this age-consistent ensemble cast to
make these characters believable. Without that the narrative would fall
apart like an army facing mutiny. Standouts include Gage Munroe as PK
and Michael Friend as Skinner. Both turn in frighteningly genuine
performances that may draw a tear or two. All team members are on
somewhat equal footing in significant roles with few in background
support. Kudos must go out to Siam Yu, Aidan Gouveia, Mackenzie Munro,
Alex Cardillo, Dyson Fyke, Spencer Howes, Andy Reid, Kolton Stewart,
Richard Nguyen, Eric Hanson, and Alex Wall. Another bold choice --
there are no adults in this tightly-focused production.
The movie's authenticity also stems from its unscripted feel, as the
youngsters were encouraged to insert dialogue using their own teenage
vernacular and improvise where it was agreed the young actors would
best know how to behave in a certain situation. The language is raw, to
be sure, not unlike my 2012 SXSW Film Festival favorite "Funeral
Kings," with F-bombs galore and enough obscenities to make their
parents blush. But it always effectively serves the plot and is never
gratuitous or overtly offensive.
Production values are well above the typical indie or foreign film. The
entire picture was shot in one exterior location, a seemingly simple
task made much more difficult by the limited hours allowed for underage
actors and inability to avoid shadows no matter how well lit. Still, it
always appears to be magic hour with the kids awash with the stunning
beauty of nature, bathed in sunlight, their angelic innocence filling
the screen.
Composers Eric Cadesky and Nick Dyer have crafted an intricate score
that's surprisingly heavy, serving as a perfect dramatic counterpoint
to the child's play in the great outdoors. The action dictates the
viewer's emotions, not the clichéd tugging of heartstrings with violins
and cellos, and that's as it should be.
The camera-work is virtually all Steadicam, affording cinematographer
Ray Dumas the ability to maintain fluid motion throughout, despite the
natural obstacles inherent in shooting on a forest floor. The
combatants often move with the frame and not through it, as though we
were running right alongside them. These tracking shots bring the
viewer right into the action, allowing us to feel as if we're part of
the game. But we're playing both sides -- but they don't know that --
and that's part of the fun of I Declare War. Spies abound, and you're
one.
"I Declare War" also works because we've all been there, more or less
-- every audience member will see a bit of their golden youth in one or
more of these kids, for better or worse. If painful it can be
cathartic. If pleasant it's sweetly evocative of a time past to which
many wish we could return.
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