There are outstanding moments to be found in Babyteeth, yet its penchant for quirk over grounded substance, and a morally worrisome central romance, makes this coming of age/coming of death Aussie dramedy a frustrating and icky watch.
If box-office records are any indication, Australian are refusing to watch Australian made movies. A guess as to why is that the Australian film industry does not make movies that interest the public, outside of those that frequent art-house cinemas. Although it is 2020, many Australian productions still subscribe to the “alternative” style of filmmaking made popular during the 1990s, where quirky storytelling and odd characters reigned. It is a strong characteristic of the Australian filmmaking scene that perhaps will never change, which is perhaps why so many stay away in droves.
Babyteeth is the latest example of this style of Aussie filmmaking. Directed by Shannon Murphy (known her work on TV’s Killing Eve), and written by Rita Kalnejais (her debut), Babyteeth at times feels like a spoof of an Aussie film, so insistent it is at being different just for the sake of it. Nothing in its storytelling or characters feel palpable or grounded, even though it deals with the most intimate parts of the human experience: death, love, family, friendship. Instead it gets cute with its themes, only to awkwardly stumble over its pretentiousness.
Babyteeth stars Eliza Scanlen as Milla, a soon to be 16-year-old who is dying from cancer. When she meets 23-year-old small time drug dealer Moses (Toby Wallace), she falls head over heels in love and finds a new lease of life that is intwined in her relationship with the grotty drug fiend, much to the chagrin of her parents Henry (Ben Mendelsohn) and Anna (Essie Davis.)
The central romance between Milla and Moses is an extremely icky affair that distracts from the core themes of Babyteeth. Eliza Scanlen and Toby Wallace are indeed fine actors who deliver rather good performances, but the love story they portray is one that begins on very rocky ground and erodes into a pile of dust. It is hard to root for statutory rape, even if Murphy and Kalnejais inject proceedings with a “barely legal” caveat.
Just as frustrating is the portrayal of Milla’s parents. None of the decisions that they make individually or collective rings true, whether it be Ben Mendelsohn stuffing his face with a sandwich while attempting to have sex with his wife, or the pair giving in to their teenage daughters infatuation with a criminal for her “mental wellbeing”. Again, Mendelsohn and Davis deliver fine performances, but their characters are odd to the point of obsolete.
There are moments in Babyteeth where Murphy shines as a visualist. A sequence at a dance party is particularly strong and exemplifies her deft handle on incorporating music in her work. Yet these moments are too far in between a film that is frustrating, maddening, and purposefully odd for the sake of being odd. An Australian movie, through and through.
