There is nothing particularly flashy about the film. Even when a major event happens that involves the accidental killing of a character, life continues on. The film is disturbing in how it shows preteens and teenagers covering up a friend’s death because they don’t know what else to do, but it is handled so eloquently that the kids don’t become moral degenerates. Green doesn’t let them get bogged down in melodramatic hijinks or overloaded plot developments; instead, he creates an atmosphere in which we can understand why they do what they do, even if we know it’s wrong. He simply lets the story and its characters move at their own ebb and flow. For some, this may be too slow. But, for those who are willing to let themselves get pulled in, George Washington offers a fascinating glimpse of life.

Most of the main characters are poor African-American youths. George (Donald Holden) is a withdrawn teenager with a genetic condition that makes his skull too soft. Thus, he cannot get it wet, and a blow to the head that might just hurt anyone else could kill him. George’s friend, the bespectacled and outgoing Buddy (Curtis Cotton III), has recently been dumped by his girlfriend, Nasia (Candace Evanofski), because she doesn’t think he is mature enough. Of course, he is only 12 and she is only 13, something that is pointed out by Vernon (Damian Jewan Lee), another of Buddy and George’s friends who is slightly larger and therefore more extroverted than the others. There are a half-dozen other characters, including Damascus (Eddie Rouse), George’s uncle whose hatred of animals is both sad and unnerving.

The film follows these characters over a period of a couple of days during the hot summer month of July. We see them hanging out in drainage ditch, going swimming at the local pool, discussing their lives and pondering their futures. One of Green’s major accomplishments is that he gives these kids a realistic understanding of their world, which goes a long way toward explaining their reaction to a friend’s accidental death. Some of their conversations are amusing in the way they attempt to mimic adult talk (this is especially true of Nasia and her friends, who discuss relationships as if they are seasoned pros), but at the same time it feels completely natural. The freedom and innocence associated with childhood is getting shorter and shorter, and Green shows that these kids have had to grow up before their time.

George Washington doesn’t seem to have any major overarching themes outside of the most basic observations about love and loss, life and death. It is a film that captures everyday life and is content with its subject. Green does try to inject the theme of heroism into the last third of the film when George saves a child from drowning in the local pool and begins to wear a home-made superhero outfit around town, but it is in these moments that the film is at its weakest because it feels like Green is trying to overcome the casual pace he has worked so hard to establish.

The film is narrated by Nasia in an insightful, honest tone that many have compared to the films of Terrence Malick (particularly Badlands and Days of Heavan). The narration is an integral part of the film, and unlike many voice-overs, it is not distracting or insulting to the intelligence of the viewer. Rather, it gives a certain perspective on the characters and situations, and also adds insight to Nasia’s character (although, like in Malick’s films, it often sounds like it is the writer/director speaking in Nasia’s voice).

The film benefits greatly not only from the natural and unaffected performances by the young actors, but also by the beautiful cinematography by Tim Orr. Although a low-budget, independent film, George Washington was shot in 35mm CinemaScope, and the results are breathtaking. The film’s composition is nearly flawless, with Orr juxtaposing the lush, Southern landscape with the rusted, twisted remains of industrial parks and warehouses that have been deserted and forgotten. There is a sense of abandonment throughout the unnamed setting—it feels as if the characters have been left behind—yet there is still the lingering sense of hope amid the ruins. In many scenes, Orr’s photography emphasizes the golden light from the setting sun, which casts a hopeful glow on even the ugliest industrial remnants. It is in these moments that the film comes closest to true cinematic poetry.

Copyright ©2014 James Kendrick

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