‘Playground’ Review: More Public Service Announcement Than Story
Playground, an Oscar-shortlisted 2021 Belgian drama directed by Laura Wandel, portrays schoolyard bullying from the vantage point of a seven-year-old girl. The subject matter is admirable, and the cinematography is certainly unique, but the film feels like an uncomfortably long public service announcement. When the credits rolled, I half-expected to see “Brought to you by StopBullying.Gov” appear on the screen.
Nora, Playground’s shy, lonely protagonist, played by Maya Vanderbeque, watches as her brother Abel (Gunter Duret) is relentlessly tormented by other boys around school. Her attempts to rescue him are thwarted by absent-minded teachers as well as Abel, who refuses to stand up for himself. The film’s two-pronged message is clear: the abused become abusers, and adults, who are largely off-screen in a Charlie Brown fashion, are often incapable or unwilling to take preventative action.
The film’s main stumbling block is a fundamental one. Wandel seems to use the narrative solely as a vehicle to convey the takeaway message instead of spinning a yarn for its own sake. The story is so reduced to its basic elements, so stripped down, that all that remains is the predictable plod of a grade school anti-bullying campaign.
Establishing shots, background information, context, character development — basic elements which can breathe life into a story — are barely present or more often missing. Even the dialogue is fairly reductive, though there are a few amusing discussions where Nora and her friends attempt to make sense of abstract topics like classism and racism. Additionally, the audio, which often transitions from silence to cacophony, is quite immersive.
Little information is provided about Nora and her brother, let alone the supporting characters, and everyone else is literally blurred out of focus. The universe is solely the school. And, for the majority of the time, the camera is dutifully trained on and level with Nora as she tepidly reads aloud in class, plays with other girls at recess, and wanders around the building. The audience is sucked back into the monotony and disorder of elementary school life, and spends much of the time interpreting Nora’s facial expressions as she often struggles to articulate her emotions.
This minimalist, isolationist style, which obscures everything on the periphery of the plot, and instead opts for scores of close-ups, might have been more effective with a more compelling story. But, a steady stream of pummelings interspersed with wearisome classroom teachings isn’t captivating enough to be told with such a narrow lens. As precocious as seven-year-old Vanderbeque may be, a 72-minute drama delivered via close-ups of her in class and on the playground can at times be dull.
A talented director deftly weaves themes and messages into a plot without forgetting that his or her primary goals are to entertain, to surprise, to engage, and to immerse. It’s certainly possible to tackle the subject of bullying without forgoing these objectives. Entertainment value doesn’t need to be sacrificed when dealing with weighty issues.
Two films come to mind: Stand By Me and Lord of the Flies. Both are movies about children navigating a cruel world without adult supervision. And both grapple with the subject of bullying.
What makes these films more engrossing than Playground is not rocket science. They both launch the viewer into dynamic worlds where a plane crash and a missing boy immediately propel the stories forward. Viewers are drawn in by these hooks, but strong character development, and intriguing, unpredictable plot lines keep them invested. All the while, the kids taunt and attack one another, and in the case of Lord of the Flies, it proves fatal. A sense of movement and progression towards an unknown climax imbues both pictures.
By contrast, a feeling of tedium permeates Playground as Nora toggles between observing her brother being bullied and sitting in class thinking about what she’s witnessed. Both Nora and Abel largely suffer in silence with the exception of a few illuminating outbursts, like when she tells him, “I’m all alone because of you. I wish you were dead.”
These on-the-nose bits of dialogue along with the no-frills plot delivered through a constricted lens leaves the audience wondering whether they just watched a feature film or a call to action.
