My Old Ass (2024) review

Dir. Megan Park

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★½

Megan Park’s My Old Ass amalgamates the hallmarks of a coming-of-age journey with light elements of sci-fi, the likes of which realistically conceived in a comedy so low-key in authenticity and poignancy that no one would’ve blamed you for failing to notice it during its all-too-brief theatrical release.

Park’s film revolves around Elliott (Maisy Stella in her film debut), a queer 18-year-old who resides on her family’s cranberry farm with her parents (Al Goulem and Maria Dizzia) and two brothers (Seth Isaac Johnson and Carter Trozzolo). She spends her days enjoying the great outdoors, sucking face with her sorta-girlfriend, and conveniently avoiding her mother’s phone calls informing her that dinner has been plated and served.

While taking mushrooms in the woods with her friends Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) and Ro (Kerrice Brooks), Elliott is greeted by her 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza). After the initial shock from her youthful counterpart, which leads to the predictable back-and-forth of Plaza proving that she is indeed Elliott plus 20 years, the two marvel at their stark differences. Elliott’s younger self is all piss, vinegar, and confidence. Elliott’s older self is reticent and comparatively gentle with her tidbits of reflection.

When the night gives way for day, Plaza disappears, but not before giving her junior a very important piece of advice: stay away from a guy named Chad. Elliott’s younger self puts her older self’s number into her phone under “MY OLD ASS;” the two continue to communicate via text.

Older Elliott is periodically free for a phone-call with her younger self, and advises her to spend more time with her family before she departs for college. Not long after their initial reaction, Elliott meets a local boy: the friendly and seemingly innocent Chad (Percy Hynes White, who previously shined in I Like Movies). The two bond quickly, even as Elliott heeds the warnings of her older self.

The mystery of why Chad is to be avoided looms over the movie, and is carried out long enough for your mind to waffle between a few different scenarios, from ominous to upsetting. Park plays with the audience by dragging this out in a way to elicits intrigue as opposed to annoyance, and she deftly navigates a movie that harbors a stronger balance than usually seen in coming-of-age flicks: one of family bonding and romance.

Elliott’s queerness also sees itself developed in an original way. When she begins bonding, and eventually falling in love, with Chad, she starts to question one aspect of her older self that didn’t initially cross her mind. Later, there’s an intimate scene between Elliott and Ro, who discuss the constraining pressure of maintaining the labels they apply to themselves. The truth is simple: they’re 18-years-old and have their entire lives to live, so compartmentalizing themselves into strict boxes is foolish.

On that note, we’re at the point in the zeitgeist where Justin Bieber’s second hit, “One Less Lonely Girl,” is officially nostalgic, and it’s a massive credit to Park, Stella, and White for making a cloying teen love ballad so uproariously funny with an unexpected narrative diversion.

Stella and Plaza don’t share as many scenes together in My Old Ass as you might expect. Elliott’s older self looms over the film in the way a guardian or protector would, but Park makes the wise yet brave decision to make this a film about a young woman’s journey; not a reworked Freaky Friday concept. The two performers make the most of their time together before going back to face the world on their own. With the recent suicide of Plaza’s husband Jeff Baena, My Old Ass takes on external poignancy no one could’ve foreseen. This is the kind of film that will be enjoyed by others and emotionally move others. It has an understated power in its storytelling and heartfelt performances. Similar to Shithouse, it’s another movie you shouldn’t be so quick to judge by its title, if you’re prone to such a mistake in the first place.

Starring: Maisy Stella, Aubrey Plaza, Percy Hynes White, Maddie Ziegler, Kerrice Brooks, Maria Dizzia, Al Goulem, Seth Isaac Johnson, Carter Trozzolo, and Alexandria Rivera. Directed by: Megan Park.