Brick, a daring take on film noir, took first-time writer-director Rian Johnson six years to create and get to into theaters. The film took off on the festival circuits late last year and is finally out in limited release. Critics and audiences have been dropping jaws over the film, primarily due to the intense performances, high school setting, and the unusual slang that Johnson created for the film. The studio (Focus Features) has actually been distributing glossaries to each theater screening the film. For this showcase, it seemed like an interesting idea to critique the film in the language of the film, discussing Brick in a tongue that the characters would understand best. This showcase, as they might say in the film, is “not heeling to hook you.”

The film with the words won’t confess how it burns. That’s for our eyesight to decide. Sparks are sounds in this burg and they mean the difference between man and other man. One of these is The Pin (Lucas Haas), he’s all ears in mom’s basement. The everyday yegs scrape The Pin for junk. When The Pin scores big, he plays it safe but gets played anyway. Everyone’s half-Shamus, but only Brendan (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) has the right moves. He leads the tap.But who lights what fires? That’s what there is to know. The blue arrow points to that side of the street, and Emily (Emilie de Ravin) screams back. She’s calm as a bomb and scaped at the mouth of the big “A.” Who’s in the big “A” and how does he konk Brendan? Brendan takes any smash like a grown up villain, but that’s just how he relates. He’s semi-ok, just trying to stay above it. He doesn’t want to know what side he’s on, so that’s our side. He wants to find what we want to know, so we learn to need.

To feel like Brendan, just try to fall in step. It’s not hopeless, but the directions sprang from dark places. Brendan has his own head and he takes off his specs when he needs to be seen. He’s a predator for information and maybe that makes him another good kid, or maybe he’s just good at what he does. He’s steely as a gat and he eats lunch alone. Shiver his timber and the whole forest shakes. Brendan can crowd control the reef worms with this sort of slickness: “I got all my senses and I slept last night, so that puts me six up on the lot of you.” Brendan trusts The Brain (Matt O’Leary), because most yegs spring for the dose and don’t see the clever specs with mommy’s cell. The Brain borrows the car and knows who gets picks from who, who calls the bulls, and where the VP (Richard Roundtree) haunts. We’re almost like The Brain: we catch Brendan catching glimpses and before we know what we know. In some ways, Brendan hides us all in the big “A.”

That’s the culture of it so here’s the program: the title is the bait, and the school wants to feed, so The Pin, who is 26, fishes for yegs to get the jake across the Burg. The fish want the hop bad because social studies is just a front. Brad Bramish has leather sleeves and complains a lot, but gets invited anyway. The coach doesn’t let him play but The Pin let’s him start. Laura (Nora Zehetner) writes a version of the game for everyone, but can’t quite flush out Brendan. She’s “hard luck in a red kimono,” which Brad Bramish can’t smell, because he’s just a reef worm wearing a letterman costume. Despite what the invite says, in the Burg it’s always Halloween in January.

The real pin is the brick. The Pin misses the brick like youth and good muscle. Speaking of muscle, The Pin has Tug (Noah Fleiss) for security, but Tug is all flex. Tug mashes Brendan because that’s Brick’s process of elimination. Brendan has blood in his lungs, but hears Tug say, “you really do want to see The Pin.” Then Brendan gets to ride the trunk.

The Pin’s mom forgets there’s no OJ in the reservoir. She knows Brendan can’t trust Tang, maybe she’s read his poster, because he’s “thick as what all.” So he doesn’t look at the apple juice, just at the Pin with his calm cookie and his big boot. The muscle is in the background like The Brain, always telling us things. There’s the sparkle: Brendan can’t smile, but first-time scribe-shooter Rian Johnson should. He’s six years deep in this project and just seeing it screen. But it’s all glory. This is what Tarantino did; he attacked the language and let the audience play in the debris. Quentin made his own fiction and Rian knows there is still pulp to pump.

Brick isn’t duck soup and it’s tough to heel. It’s sticky. Nothing means the same thing, but that’s like the genre, yeah? The average ticket should get down with Johnson’s pretty ideas: Brendan in the fluorescent booth; The Pin in his eagle office; the swinging mirror; the light in the window; in the big “A”; everyone’s treads; dirty fingernails; the swig; the bracelet; Tug’s forehead; all the whatnot. Johnson speeds up the highway because the real story comes from the foreground, from the characters, their cavities, and the sounds they make. Brick is urban jungle drama, full of creatures that might need cages, but not until the gum is thick enough to stick to the bulls.

Go to www.brickmovie.net for an actual glossary of terms used in the film (and in this showcase).

• Amazon.com
• Amazon.co.uk
• Play.com

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