There is nothing bigger than a marketing betrayal within a film. Even if the film is outstanding, there is a mindset audiences enter into a theater with, waiting for certain elements to turn up or an original take to appear, disappointed when it is not the film they thought they were getting. Sadly, Balloon is one of the latest to fall victim to the ploys of marketing that send audiences into a theater with a thought in mind, which proves to be less than accurate.
While beautifully crafted, engaging and inspiring, Balloon, from writer and director Jeremy Merrifield, was a film I felt cheated by the moment it had ended. When pitched, Balloon was described as delving into the roots of toxic masculinity and an isolation that leads to acts of gun violence. While it does deliver on some topics of conversation, sometimes more than others, there are glaring contradictions to what is promised and what is delivered – leaving viewers wondering in the end what mindset should have been sold instead.
Walking into my screening, I was ready to be enlightened and to be presented with a new angle on the dangers that have accelerated in recent months, even weeks. A fictionalized examination of the environment we are raising our children in, especially those who could be pushed to unthinkable acts. Sadly, I found representations of what we already know – and an impossible means of resolve.
As I have mentioned, my immediate problem with the short was how it was sold, and the final film I watched. While I can see the connection, I felt this was a story of something else, an examination of something entirely different than what it was being described as – hope, perseverance and growing up.
Toxic Masculinity
In all fairness to the film, Balloon does display examples of toxic masculinity as promised. Bullying is an instant showcase, the toxic environment children are forced to endure day in and day out – and in today’s modern society, long after the school bell has rung. Following a failed attempt to defend himself in a fight, Sam Wheeler (Jonah Beres) finds himself the prey of those who search for the weak, utilizing their presumed weaknesses as stairs to success and attention. Instantly, viewers are introduced to how modern technology has elevated the reach and devastation bullying causes.
Video of Sam crying after being punched by his bully replays on each of the students’ phones, his inability to fight back physically or digitally shrinking him further into the literal dark corner he finds himself in. But it doesn’t stop there, the ridicule and claustrophobic inability to escape follow him home, his phone engulfing him in a thread of messages constantly displaying what would once have been whispers behind locker doors and back of classrooms.
But it doesn’t stop there, cyber bullying exists alongside means of the past as well. Technology only enhances, rather than erases, and the means of bullying, no matter their time period, continue to exist. Sam finds the truth in this as his classmates pee on him in the shower – an act ignored by the coach. I mean, “boys will be boys”, right?
The image of toxic masculinity in a modern world is clear and apparent here, yet there was no new insight provided by the film. While it will pack a punch at the state of the school environment we may be sending or children into, this is where I started to have issues – the insinuation that toxic masculinity is the only thing that creates a school shooter. Nothing beyond the clichéd default.
Crafting A Shooter
Beyond the clichéd toxicity, there are not other means by which the film lends itself to why boys would become school shooters. Honestly, it felt for a time that the film was saying boys heavily bullied will turn into school shooters. There is only a brief introduction to his family life (and the isolation he experiences there as they pay little to no attention to his needs). There is no mention of mental illness. Just a boy ridiculed to the point of potentially no return.
It seemed as though there was a blame placed strictly on the the behaviors of young boys and the failures of adults (specifically the coach) that create mass shooters. He is lonely and ignored. Bullied at school, he finds little to no support from teachers and coaches. As mentioned, the coach does not scold the boys for their actions in the shower. There is a short pause, a moment you think he will, but he resides to fulfilling his paid duties – have the boys in the gym for class. Beyond this – nothing.
At the beginning of Balloon, Sam is thrusted into a hectic and overwhelming scenario of a live active shooter drill. As students try to figure out the best solution to the current scenario, an office barks at them, heightening the atmosphere, inciting the importance of urgency. With his super blunt way of speaking to the children (“a bullet in your head?”), there is a feeling the officer represents more than justice. He is the cold environment we throw these children into, expecting they have the means and no how to survive and to make the right decisions. And if they choose wrong, the consequences may be more severe than they can comprehend.
The Look of a Shooter
When you tally all the mass shooting that have occurred, more often than not it is a white male shooter. Check and check. Balloon quickly marked the boxes when casting Sam. Though it was the lanky, awkward structure to his body and the haircut that stood out and did not settle well. Personally, the casting of Sam and his depiction screamed Adam Lanza, shooter of the Newtown School Shootings in Newtown, CT.
Are all shooters, who have been bullied by toxic masculinity, scrawny and weak? Do they all fight this structure that has been seen at least once in real life? Are there no other body types that the white male shoot has encompassed?
As Sam continues through the short, his look becomes more and more this quintessential angry kid, dangerous looking.
The Power to Rise Above
For me, this was where the film truly began. The entire length of the Balloon, I had been waiting for the shooting to begin, the switch pushed to on by the isolation and toxic masculinity on screen. Everything down to the look of the child screamed the horrors that have inflicted so many schools and students in our country. And then – hope.
As a viewer, I had wished that the beginning had been the build up to this conclusion, not the focus. There is such an inspiring message that Balloon wants to deliver to audiences but is buried in the expectation of violence and the confusion of “where is this going?”.
The power to rise above adversity, a power that resides in all of us, was a truly inspirational moment in the film. Finding the power within and utilizing it for good not only mimicked the nuances of Sam, but contradicted the isolation caused by those around him. He did not need any one to give him the push, he found his strength and survival on his own when he needed it most. Sam found the power and instead of evening the score, he proves himself the better individual.
Balloon: Conclusion
With all this in mind, Balloon is a a beautifully crafted film packed with an inspirational ending that speaks to all who view it. I just wish there had been a more enlightening means of getting there – and an understanding that this was going to be a film about hope rather than despair.All in all, I think it Balloon is a short film that will lend itself to different meanings for a wide variety of viewers, yet one I feel may draw the the wrong crowd.
For upcoming screenings of this short film, see here.
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