Shithouse is all about distilling the awkwardness of The College Experience. The strange conflation of formative years, relentless opportunities to make mistakes, and vague promises of a limitless future. It’s anchored by an unusually tender lead performance and a handful of genuinely affecting moments. In Cooper Raiff’s directorial debut, he gives us real reason to watch his next move.
7.6
Alex Malmquist (Raiff) has moved from Dallas, Texas to college in California. He unsurprisingly seems to know very few people. His roommate, Sam (Logan Miller), is quite clearly not on his wavelength and seems a (harmless college) dick. It’s obvious that Alex is struggling to adjust a bit – he talks to his stuffed animal who tries to convince him to go home, and his room is filthy because he’s let Sam completely take it over. He is, in all terms, the kind of person that college eats up and spits out.
Then he ends up at a party house called Shithouse and later on meets Maggie (Dylan Gelula), his R/A. Maggie might not be thriving but she’s clearly not struggling at college. Through a fortunate meet-cute, they spend the night together strolling the streets on a quest to bury Maggie’s dead turtle. Maggie is at-first uninterested in the burial. Alex is mystified as to how she could be so easy to let go of him.
Whilst not subtle, the film unveils why that might be the case. Alex is a sensitive soul, his father died but he’s remarkably at peace with it and he’s incredibly close with his mother and sister, and it’s a large source of his pain. Maggie’s parents are divorced and her father has cut himself out of her life. Her reaction to it is to show as little caring as possible. It turns out that such an approach works very well in college, where feelings are hurt and embarrassment sidles around every corner. If the film perhaps isn’t as subtle making those connections, that seems appropriate – these are 19 year-olds who aren’t too subtle themselves.
Things take a turn when Alex falls hard for Maggie, and Maggie treats it with the apathy that she offers everything in her life. Instagram messages are sent and not “Seen” (a crushing blow). People are ignored. It’s painful if only because it has happened to you.
Shithouse does not take any weird left-turns and you largely won’t be surprised by anything that comes in it. Raiff also doesn’t really hit the comedic parts right. They often come across as just genuinely cringy and some low-brow moments are more eye-roll inducing than anything. While freshmans are stupid and largely unfunny, Superbad found a way to make that style of comedy click for a wider audience. This film can’t really find the balance.
But the really unique and memorable turn comes from Raiff. He plays Alex as a hyper-sensitive, insular boy who has clearly absorbed a lot from his father’s death. Raiff plays him so believably that it’s hard to imagine it could not be a draw from real-life experience. In one of the film’s greater scenes, he has a fight with Maggie where he cannot fathom why she is being so cruel to him. We know why – it’s the teenage code. But Alex can’t comprehend the disconnect (and Maggie, equally, doesn’t get why he doesn’t get “it“). We’re perhaps more used to that character as a female, trying to win over the affections of a cold, stoic male. Here, the roles are pleasantly reversed, and Alex embodies the burning feelings deep down of every person, man or woman, who’s been callously rejected and feels a one-way connection.
Not much else happens in Shithouse. It is meant to feel like a snapshot of life – the beginnings of college and the pain of alienation. That feeling of being a long way off understanding your own motivations and intentions. You will probably cry when Alex pours his heart out to his family back home. You will probably remember, in some shape or form, that feeling. It is gut-wrenching to watch here, but it comes with the caveat that life is not like it is at 19 all the time. You do become more confident, more comfortable in yourself. The ending of Shithouse encapsulates that, and the character of Alex leaves us wondering what Raiff will approach next. He’s off to a great start.
THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL 