Don’t let the name deter you—submarines don’t really come into play (then again, sorry to disappoint any submarine enthusiasts out there). It’s a story about a teenage boy, Oliver Tate, who finds “that the only way to get through life is to picture [himself] in an entirely disconnected reality.” (We immediately clicked.) He’s on a quest to impress a girl, but also to unlock his own identity: “I’ve tried flipping coins, listening exclusively to French crooners—I’ve even had a brief hat phase, but nothing stuck.”
It starts working out with Jordana, an angsty, red-duffle-coat-wearing pyromaniac, but things fall apart with both of their families, and soon the happy relationship turns sour. The film is like a mix between Wes Anderson’s crisp tableaux and precious home footage. It covers a load of scary themes—heartbreak, cancer, depression, bullying, infidelity—but there’s a perfect balance of charm, and it made me want to write letters, swap books, make mixtapes, get a working Polaroid camera, shoot short films, run on a beach, set off fireworks,and send a paper boat down a river.
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