Billy the Kid
Directed by Jennifer Venditti
Billy the Kid, a disarmingly funny and genuinely poignant low-budget documentary, sports old-fashioned comedic charm and the psychological weight of a Freudian wet dream. The movie marks the directorial debut of Jennifer Venditti, whose ability to convey the innocence of youth and the universal anguish of being an outsider suggests a natural ear for the emotional rhythms of growing up. Her subject is the titular 15-year-old who suffers from Asperger’s syndrome, which, coupled with the fact that his crack-smoking father abused his mother when Billy was a child, leads to his social alienation. Considering the movie as some sort of psychological investigation, however, would be missing the point entirely.
As we watch Billy and grow used to the cadences of his speech and behavior (he talks faster than he thinks), Venditti’s thesis takes shape. Through Billy’s words alone (“I’m not black, I’m not white, not foreign…just different in the mind.”), she posits that perceiving a problem with someone different from what others consider “normal” primarily reflects the biases of the observer, rather than the condition of the perceived “outsider.” It’s an important distinction, one that comes through in the film’s methodical structure, but not in an academic sense. Billy is witty and energetic, so Venditti allows his amicable personality to dictate the endearing tone.
We’re first given unrelated glimpses at his eccentric lifestyle—hard-rock music tastes, a strong desire to be a hero—and then, rather surprisingly, the movie becomes an utterly charming romantic comedy. Billy falls for a local girl whose visual affliction gives her a default “other” status in a way that Billy immediately recognizes. In this plot thread and throughout the rest of the running time, the movie’s narrative focuses on his perseverance as the world continually tries to shun him. By the story’s conclusion, his problems don’t seem all that different from those of your average struggling teen.
The impact of the film is sustained by Billy’s infectious personality. Equally likely to flex in the mirror and cite verses by Robert Frost, his quirky savant mentality emboldens every frame. Viewers are unlikely to listen to KISS again without picturing Billy’s heartfelt cover of “God Gave Rock ’n’ Roll to You II.” In his culturally literate and incessantly honest way, this adorably idiosyncratic teenager’s societal naiveté reveals the universal qualities of the struggle for individualism.
Directed by Jennifer Venditti
Billy the Kid, a disarmingly funny and genuinely poignant low-budget documentary, sports old-fashioned comedic charm and the psychological weight of a Freudian wet dream. The movie marks the directorial debut of Jennifer Venditti, whose ability to convey the innocence of youth and the universal anguish of being an outsider suggests a natural ear for the emotional rhythms of growing up. Her subject is the titular 15-year-old who suffers from Asperger’s syndrome, which, coupled with the fact that his crack-smoking father abused his mother when Billy was a child, leads to his social alienation. Considering the movie as some sort of psychological investigation, however, would be missing the point entirely.
As we watch Billy and grow used to the cadences of his speech and behavior (he talks faster than he thinks), Venditti’s thesis takes shape. Through Billy’s words alone (“I’m not black, I’m not white, not foreign…just different in the mind.”), she posits that perceiving a problem with someone different from what others consider “normal” primarily reflects the biases of the observer, rather than the condition of the perceived “outsider.” It’s an important distinction, one that comes through in the film’s methodical structure, but not in an academic sense. Billy is witty and energetic, so Venditti allows his amicable personality to dictate the endearing tone.
We’re first given unrelated glimpses at his eccentric lifestyle—hard-rock music tastes, a strong desire to be a hero—and then, rather surprisingly, the movie becomes an utterly charming romantic comedy. Billy falls for a local girl whose visual affliction gives her a default “other” status in a way that Billy immediately recognizes. In this plot thread and throughout the rest of the running time, the movie’s narrative focuses on his perseverance as the world continually tries to shun him. By the story’s conclusion, his problems don’t seem all that different from those of your average struggling teen.
The impact of the film is sustained by Billy’s infectious personality. Equally likely to flex in the mirror and cite verses by Robert Frost, his quirky savant mentality emboldens every frame. Viewers are unlikely to listen to KISS again without picturing Billy’s heartfelt cover of “God Gave Rock ’n’ Roll to You II.” In his culturally literate and incessantly honest way, this adorably idiosyncratic teenager’s societal naiveté reveals the universal qualities of the struggle for individualism.
