Why Everyone Should Probably See Teenage Kicks At SFF

By Samuel Leighton-Dore

A first-time Australian feature film exploring a rare intersection of race, sexuality and grief might not be your impulsive first-pick for a fun Saturday night out. But this weekend, it probably should be.

And not just because it’s a good fucking film.

Teenage Kicks is about as honest a reflection as you’re likely to find in this year’s Sydney Film Festival lineup of the current film-making climate in Australia; whereby seasoned directors spend years struggling through a rotating door of funding applications, often failing to pass the gatekeepers necessary to get a project off the ground.

The end result is a gruelingly long and challenging process, one marked by repeated rejection, fundraising, self-financing and debt (or as Boreham says, “the house of cards that film-making is”). It separates the opportunistic film-makers from the passionate ones – and Teenage Kicks director Craig Boreham is undoubtedly a passionate one.

A labour of love spanning six years, Teenage Kicks is the creative culmination of – and tribute to – Boreham’s unwavering personal grit and close collaborative relationships with producer Annmaree J Bell and lead actor Miles Szanto. Five years after directing the successful short-film Drowning, the gripping story of seventeen year old Miklós Varga, a boy of Hungarian heritage who is struggling to navigate both the death of his brother and emerging sexuality, is finally ready for the big screen.

As Empire Magazine said, its an exciting example of “good young actors and a veteran short director making meaningful, gutsy stuff.”

I arrive early at a small pub in Newtown to chat with Miles and Craig about the film, and figure a jug of Coopers Green is a safe bet for satiating the thirst of impoverished inner-west creative types. I soon learn that neither men drink alcohol – so it’s only understandable that I got a little drunk as our conversation slowly turned from the inherent struggles of Australian cinema to the emotional repercussions of getting an erection on set.

“When we first did Drowning, I had just turned seventeen and I was living through the same experiences Mik was. Not necessarily circumstantially, but I understood all the feelings, the terror of stepping into adulthood.” Szanto tells me.

“Being able to come back and revisit the story for Teenage Kicks, it was amazing to have the gained the perspective of having survived that time in my life. I was having flashbacks of what it was like to be sixteen and terrified of everything… And now to watch it on a screen in front of eight-hundred people, it’s really confronting.”

“It’s a beautiful thing to have a record of that point in my life.”

Szanto has spent the last four years setting up base in Los Angeles, where he admits to having initially fallen in with the stereotypical crowds of sullen, coke-frenzied celebrities and their respective entourages.

“I hated it for my first year,” he says.

“It can feel like you’re living in Surry Hills 24/7 if you want it to. But once I realised that those stereotypes were real, it allowed me to surround myself with a different group of people – not necessarily actors or people in the film industry. That’s when I really started to love LA.”

Despite finding success overseas, the release of Teenage Kicks is something of a personal victory for Szanto. He lost twenty pounds for the role (“I lived on a diet of kale juice”), having to recreate the pubescent awkwardness of his teen years.

“I’ve done a couple of feature films now, but this is certainly the most personal and the one I feel most connected to. I’ve been involved with the film since the first incarnation to the first draft of the script to the writing – even the editing. I’ve been part of this for a long time and it certainly feels like the most involved I’ve ever been in a project.” He tells me.

“I think my closeness with Craig benefited us. We’ve had some amazing collaborations in the past as well as a close friendship for years, which gave us a great shorthand on set. I really trust him and I think he really trusts me.”

“It’s rare to have that kind of connection, not only professionally, but personally.”

In an unsuspecting career trend that I’ll refer to as The James Franco Effect, Szanto is an old-hand (especially considering he’s only twenty-four) at embracing the challenges of LGBTQI roles – something he credits to his mother’s open-mindedness.

“My first time playing a sexually-fluid character was on Love My Way when I was fourteen – and I had to lie about my age to get the part. I’ve kind of been embraced by that community and I really love telling those stories. I’m really passionate about it.” He says.

“I was always taught that love was genderless – that was a pretty strong through-line in my life. A lot of my friends have faced some real ugliness as a result of coming out, and I never really understood that. My mum was always so supportive of me being exactly who I was, so I have a lot of compassion for people who didn’t have that.”

As someone who has unashamedly experienced the awkward downtime following empty and meaningless sex, I’m curious as to how Miles and co-star Daniel Webber approached (as straight men) the physical intimacy of their roles in what was a long and low-budget shoot. While some actors in Hollywood are afforded the luxury of segregated trailers and large, impersonal sets, Teenage Kicks demanded the cast be much closer.

Even after Boreham yelled “cut”.

“Getting naked with anyone, whether you’re sexually attracted to them or not is scary, it’s uncomfortable. We both knew what the roles were asking for, but there’s a real vulnerability. It was the middle of Winter, and I remember after shooting this one pool scene in Coogee we’d run to the shower and lie there spooning each other wondering why is this our career?” Miles tells me.

“At the end of the day, we became pretty close and comfortable with each other.”

By this point in our interview I’m down to my third schooner of Coopers on an empty stomach and getting a little lost in Szanto’s peek-a-boo chest hair and dark/brooding demeanor. So I bite the bullet and ask about his dick (not completely unprofessional of me, given his dick makes a cameo in the film) – namely, what happens on set when you’re completely naked and get a little turned on?

“Because it was so cold and I’d lost so much weight, I couldn’t even fathom an erection during this shoot. But when it does happen, I think it’s understandable. It has happened to me before. I almost cracked a woody during once scene…” He says.

“But I just thought, we’re simulating sex. If it happens, it’s probably on method.”

Teenage Kicks screens tomorrow night as part of Sydney Film Festival.

You can view the trailer here.

Limited tickets are still available here.