This film recants the story of the murder of Brian Deneke, a 19-year-old Amarillo, Texas punk killed by a 17-year-old jock in 1997. Directed by Jameson Brooks, produced by Cheldon R Chick, and written by the pair, it’s a deeply evocative look into the immediate events that lead to that situation. It’s both a singular story and a repetitive one (Sophie Lancaster springs to mind), but the film goes beyond a simple reenactment.

It’s worth noting that the film absolutely has a viewpoint about Deneke’s death, and that is that a great injustice was done when his killer was let off. It also is clear that it views the behaviour towards the punks by the community and by the authorities to be inherently abhorrent and contributory to that death. However, it also has a wider story to tell, and it is the subtext is what makes the film so incredible.

Whilst not apparent until midway through the movie, the bulk of the movie has almost no adults present. It shows the world as inhabited by the (almost exclusively male) youths, and it is an underworld of constant near night. It’s a hyper-realism of what it’s like to be that age, a modern-day Lord Of The Flies fuelled by MTV and music magazines. When the parents do return to the narrative it’s day-break, after things have gone fatally beyond the point of return, and make you wonder why they abandoned their charges and let things get this out of control.

What little adult presence is on display is an overtly hostile and biased one, consisting primarily of the police who persecuted the punks and the defender in the trial who effectively prosecutes the dead Brian. Whilst Gleen Morshower does a grand turn as the avatar of authoritarian injustice towards outsiders, the representation of the police is an especially interesting one. We do see the punks engaged in illegal and anti-social that the law enforcement then react to. We also witness the brutality and casual assault that is delivered to them as extrajudicial punishment.

The police are also shown offering preferential restraint to the jocks, who are engaged in parallel behaviours to the punks. This primarily shows the hypocrisy of treatment between the two groups, but it also demonstrates the similarities between the tribes. They have the same interests, the same fears, and the same challenges. Social position separates them, but it’s a frustratingly thin division.

One of the key similarities is the willingness to violence, a belief in direct action and the grand gesture’s ability to solve complex problems, that is so frequently prevalent in male culture. All this produces a heady mix of tension, inevitable conflict, and the sense that everyone is fearful of looking fearful. Again, I can vouch for the authenticity of those feelings.

If I haven’t mentioned the basics of the film, that’s because they are all impeccable. Dave Davis does an amazing job of carrying the film as Brian, bringing the nuance and depth that the role requires, and has an incredible supporting cast of youths that dominate the film. They come across as real, fluctuating between scared and bold, aware and naive, and between child and adult.

These swings are highlighted in The script, with dialogue that show the articulation and frustration of youth. It also doesn’t present the punks as being squeaky clean or the jocks as sinister monsters. The protagonists break laws out of bored frustration and produce great art, the antagonists strike out at outsiders out of fear of not being good enough for the in-group. The children in the film are children, regardless of how much they may consider themselves adults and grown up, and having previously been one for several years I can vouch for the authenticity of their stupid decisions.

It’s that ability to go beyond the basics, to suggest that this is a symptom of a wider problem, and to present youth violence as something beyond mindless aggression or simple tribalism that keeps the interest so tightly. At the core is an injustice, but it is used to look beyond the one incident. The result of the trial, woven into the events, is a bitter inevitability, but the film does it’s best to explain why that was bound to happen and how it will happen again.

You will need resilience to get through this film, but that doesn’t stop it being a Treasure. It’s grubby, frustrating, and at times you’ll want to scream. In short, it’s an incredible encapsulation of youth, as well as a bold telling of an important story. It is personal (with the creators providing a voice over at the start and finish explaining why they made it) and yet carries a harsh ubiquity. And, sadly, it’s the best explanation as to why these things will happen in the future and another such film will be made.

The Raggedyman