Soundtrack of an Angsty Teen
Words by Amy Louise.
It’s hard to think about coming-of-age films without thinking about their soundtracks. As the genre moved beyond the “teenpics” of the 1950s, and emerged in the 1960s with stories that depicted teen-dom as a more liminal process marked by rites of passage, popular music closely followed, more suitably equipped than the classical Hollywood score to represent the angst of the films’ young characters. Be it how Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence” eloquently emphasises Benjamin’s disillusionment in The Graduate, or how “Why Do Fools Fall in Love” by Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers explains Curt’s fascination with a beautiful blonde woman in American Graffiti, in teen films, music plays as large a role in character development as the script.
As the genre pushed forward, so did the music and its relevance, as John Hughes began to produce the first prominent female-focused coming-of-age films. Starring Molly Ringwald, Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink, despite their many issues, signified a marked uptake in stories about teenage girls and demonstrated a unique relationship between their main characters, Samantha and Andie, and the soundtrack. They, and those who followed, including Kat in 10 Things I Hate About You, Juno in Juno, and Lady Bird in Lady Bird, who I’ll speak about more later, are positioned in their films as social outsiders and the films’ soundtracks only serve to reinforce this.
Art by Amy Louise.
Male-centric coming-of-age films traditionally focus on a quest that must be completed in order to gain approval from peers and parents - losing your virginity, getting alcohol for a party, entering your dream college. In contrast, female-centric coming-of-age films generally focus on more introspective issues of identity and restriction, and in turn, music is often portrayed as a source of solace, allowing brief windows into the mind of the supposedly mysterious teenage girl. The relationship between character and music is crucial, not just because they illustrate the complex emotions rumbling under the surface, but because the choice of music also provides moments of epiphany and revelation during the girls’ quests to discover who they truly are.
All of this brings me to the 2017 film Lady Bird, directed by Greta Gerwig. Set in 2002, the film follows 17-year-old Christine, more commonly known by her self-chosen moniker “Lady Bird”, as she navigates her final year of high school and her temperamental relationship with her mother. Throughout the film, Lady Bird is experiencing a major crisis of identity, best shown when her mother tells her that she just wants her to be the best version of herself that she can be, to which Lady Bird warily replies, “what if this is the best version?”. She is resentful of her birth name, her hometown and class position, desiring a cultured life on the east coast of the country. Throughout the film, in order to find herself and discover who she is, she hurts those who love her most, including her mother and best friend.
Lady Bird’s soundtrack naturally functions in order to set the film directly within early “noughties” Sacramento. It is littered with various alt-pop songs and chart hits to firmly hammer to the audience when and where the film is set. A physical and mental attachment is emphasised in the film between Lady Bird and the music around her. She participates in the school musical, develops an ill-fated crush on a bass player during a performance and confuses her father with what he considers to be a truly bizarre affinity for Alanis Morrissette.
Lady Bird’s attachment to particular music is exemplified by the occurrence of the ridiculous erotic rock ballad “Crash into Me” by Dave Matthews Band. We first bear witness to the cheesy anthem when a broken-hearted Lady Bird sobs in a car with her best friend Julie while it plays on the radio. The irreverent ballad, consisting of lyrics such as “lost for you, I'm so lost for you, you come crash into me and I come into you”, makes the perfect break-up song for the situation because it’s silly and irrational, much like teenage love and heartbreak.
The song is gone from the viewers’ memory almost as soon as it fades from film, that is until it is played once more in the film’s final act. At this point, Lady Bird has abandoned Julie in favour of new friends that are, in her eyes at least, much cooler. As she sits in a car with these new friends, “Crash into Me” begins to play on the radio. Originally agreeing with her new friends that the terrible song is in fact, terrible, eventually our titular character remembers it’s significance in her life and to her broken friendship with Julie. When this happens, Lady Bird finally speaks up, admitting to the carload that she actually loves the song and asks if she can be driven to Julie’s house in order to reconcile.
*Crash into Me plays softly in the distance*
If you happen to be particularly literate in late nineties pop culture, which for some reason, I am, you’d know that upon the original release of “Crash into Me” in 1996, the song was both critically and publicly condemned due to the irreverent lyrics and general sleaziness.. To most, Lady Bird’s personal revelation is simply a reminder to her of her friendship with Julie. However, audience members who, like the director Greta Gerwig, were teenagers and young adults in the late 1990s/early 2000s, would remember the cheesy ballad and the ire that was drawn towards it. In turn, the sub-text lends to the emotional impact. While the passengers of the car scoff and pay little attention to Lady Bird’s remark, this moment and admission plays a vital role for Lady Bird as a character, as she grows into her own skin and becomes comfortable with who she is. In this moment, Lady Bird isn’t just standing up to her friends, she is in fact finally admitting that she is “uncool” and does not care. This brief moment marks a huge change in Lady Bird, as she reconciles with Julie, graduates high school and finally grows up.
This probably goes well-beyond what Gerwig actually intended (maybe she just liked the song!) However, I think Lady Bird demonstrates how soundtracks for films about teenage girls carefully take advantage of societal expectations of teenage girls in general, and the importance placed on music during their journey into adulthood. It, along with many other films, cleverly frames the bizarre attachments one can form to bits of media in their teenage years, and the importance that has on our growth into somewhat functioning adults. Through engagement with the music, no matter how cheesy and irreverent, Lady Bird is able to take control of her own narrative and finally mature. In turn, I’m going to send this essay to anyone who ever brings up my Fall Out Boy obsession in 2009.
