Teenagehood is a period everybody endures, for better or worse. John (Jake Ryan), the apple of his Catholic mother’s eye, gets overwhelmed by secondary school, a place where teachers boast that “dimness” is their alma mater. Keen to make an impression, John falls for another pupil: Lilith (Skye Alyssa Friedman). Both stem from divorced backgrounds, yet there are differences between the duo that threatens to split them apart.
Ennui is the theme that coats Lemonade Blessing from top to bottom. In the centre stands a fragile and frightened character, torn between the faith that has serviced him for life and the newly discovered feelings he experiences. Ryan is astonishing in the role, concerned with the well being that befalls a teen in a strange and austere environment. “If you wear a coloured bra, don’t whine to me when your chest gets pinched in the hallway”, the students are warned on their first day.
Pronouncements like this do not sit well with the sensuous mind, even though John is inexperienced in the art of romance. When the protagonist finally gets a kiss, he’s told: “it was acceptable”. In one of the movie’s more overtly comedic moments, John queries the calculations that must have occurred in his partner’s mind, questioning how his tongue technique measures up. The snogging that follows is sloppy and noisy; as is the wont of excited teens.
Jeanine Serralles steals virtually every scene she’s in as the overbearing mother. “When you’re sucking face”, she gingerly asks John, “is it from your heart, or something in your pants?” The level of cringe is perfect, delivering the nightmarish speech every son dreads from his parents. The matriarch clearly doesn’t approve of this shenanigans, but a feisty attempt at steering him on the virtuous path only results in her child burning a bible in a barbecue fire.
In the grand history of teenage-oriented cinema, John looks lost during the moments he’s supposed to give his girlfriend pleasure. Open-eyed as he kisses his girlfriend, John is stunned to see how much water is in her dress, despite the pair “making-out for half an hour”. A scene in which he puts his hands up her skirt on a bus is directed for laughs, but the chuckles come out of sympathy rather than mockery. Everyone feels awkward during their first bout of stimulation. Missing the clitoris, he places his hand on her thigh, before John regains his geography to locate the sweet spot. Friedman cackles and barks with frenzied, giddy energy, levelling the whimsy with an anarchic backbone.
Away from romance, John works on his relationship with mentors and parents. Midway through the movie, he’s confronted by the prospect of meditation, contravening the tenets of his mother’s religion. Tellingly, the pater familias doesn’t hold the importance on confession as his ex-wife does. John, appalled by his father’s paganic activities, flees from the domicile.
Sex, religion, humanity: facets every person has to explore on their life’s journey. Compounded by puberty, these diversions need to be highlighted and considered with greater scrutiny. Egged on to steal communion bread and urinate on it, John needs to decide whether to follow his loins, his God or his brain to complete fulfilment. Lemonade Blessing is devastatingly funny in spots, lit by a tender and fragile emotional undercurrent.
When John finally strikes up the courage to tell his mother he is undergoing doubts about Catholicism, the mother nearly explodes in anger and disappointments. A harbinger of tradition, she is only doing what she feels is best for the son. “It was my job to get your father into heaven”, she sighs. No matter how much they stray, the parent and child dearly love one another. Family – just like sex and laughter – is vital.
Lemonade Blessing shows in the 25t REC Tarragona International Film Festival.
