Scott Pilgrim vs. His Parents

On Monday night, I went and saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Good thing I did. It didn’t do well at the box office over the weekend, so it probably will be out of theaters by the time you finish reading this. Which is too bad. Because it rocks.

It’s based on a series of graphic novels by Bryan Lee O’Malley that are funny, earnest and young. In the movie, he meets Ramona Flowers, quite literally the girl of his dreams, while he’s kind of dating Knives Chau. He starts going out with Ramona, breaks up with Knives, and is forced into battle the League of Evil Exes, seven of Ramona’s former significant others. Along the way, he learns stuff and stuff.

Coming-of-age movies aren’t new. Rebel Without a Cause. Sixteen Candles. Karate Kid. American Pie. This one is different. For one, it’s incredibly visually inventive. Scott’s life is a mash-up of all things youth culture. Things that happen in video games happen to Scott. When he defeats an Evil Ex, the Ex turns into a pile of coins.

But his problems. They aren’t new. He doesn’t have a job. He has to find a new place to live. He has girl trouble. He’s uncomfortable with the dating history of his girl friend. (Granted, her dating history has super powers and is trying to kill him, so he has more reason than most.)

What was new, to me, was the total absence of parents. The closest reference to a parent is Scott’s band, Sex Bob-omb, which sounds kind of like ‘mom”. Scott doesn’t turn to his folks for help. He doesn’t think back to lessons they taught him. He doesn’t blame them for his poor decisions or bad choices or his problems. (Which is all anyone did in my favorite teen movie, The Breakfast Club.)

On the one hand, this could be a slam on the State of Parenting Now. That adults are so consumed in their own lives and careers that they don’t stay connected to their kids. Or that kids find their parents completely, hopelessly out – of – touch with the world and couldn’t POSSIBLY understand the complexity of their lives. (Nothing new there, either.)

But there’s another side to this evil-ex-turned-into-a-coin. Maybe Scott is someone who got raised as best he could, then lived his life on his terms. That’s the job, as tough as it might be to deal with. That recognition that your kids won’t need you, eventually, the way that they do when they’re young.

I’ve thought about my own eventual obsolescense a lot this week, a week when I got a text that said “there are a lot of calls for ‘dada’ tonight”. When there have been boxes of Legos dropped into my lap as an invitation to play. When there has been crying and holding out of books toward me at bedtime.

And I think, someday, Jack, you can go fight super-powered magic vegan ninjas and not tell me about it. I’ll be proud of you. But don’t do it tomorrow. Because I’m not ready.