The way in which American adolescents have had to internalize the pain of school shootings has been undercut by how frequently these incidents occur — they’re practically routine. Outside of the pandemic, the yearly count of instances of school gun violence categorically breaches three digits, and faces and names become little more than numbers to the public, but the abject fear and trauma remain omniscient. Freshman director Megan Park wants to change that with her feature, The Fallout, which she has created as “an apology to every kid that faces these very real threats.”
The Fallout is a sympathetic chronicle of this national pain, focusing on the life of just one of these affected teens; the narrative style, depicting “before” and “after,” creates a pathos that humanizes the exorbitant numerical figures that we see on the news. Vada (Jenna Ortega) is 16 years old, a tomboy, and carries out her teenage existence under the radar with her incredibly funny and bombastic best friend, Nick (Will Ropp). Just after Vada arrives at school in the morning, she excuses herself out of class for the bathroom to take a call from her younger sister Amelia (Lumi Pollack), who is panicking over the arrival of her first period. When in the bathroom, Vada catches a glimpse of her classmate Mia, played by Maddie Ziegler, who is both a social media influencer and professional dancer, just like the actress who plays her. The hesitation and awkwardness between the two girls are shattered when they suddenly hear gunshots, and the mood of the film takes a nosedive into obscure waters.
The narrative style of the film does not follow a conventional form, as the climactic action happens within mere minutes after pressing start. What plays out is a meditation on trauma and patients through an incredibly tender lens. Park’s directing style takes the audience up close and personal to the stress that ensues on the road to recovery, giving a candid look on Vada’s panic attacks and coping mechanisms. It’s gritty, it’s painful, but it’s a necessary exposition into the lives of these teenagers.
As time progresses following the incident, Park paints a picture of the evolving bond of Vada and Mia, who seem very different on the outside, but connect in the silent struggle that they are both enduring. On Vada’s end, her family is struggling to understand the situation, and on Mia’s end, her parents are totally absent from the picture due to the constant traveling that comes with their professions. This teenage rapport proves fruitful, and they begin to heal as they spend afternoons drinking Mia’s parents’ wine by her pool, or lounging around her sauna.
Park does a remarkable job of portraying the ebb and flow of relationships that surfaces as a byproduct of trauma, granting special attention to Vada and her sister, in addition to Vada exploring her sexuality through different bonds that she has formed over the span of the film. These moments are brief, but necessary to the development of Vada’s character, and could have benefitted from more attention to the consequences of these actions. Furthermore, the pacing of the film loses its flair in the wake of these moments, and the film seems to be cut short with an uneasy stopping point. In some ways, it seems like The Fallout doesn’t recognize all of its strengths and tries to spread itself too thin, when a closer focus on its protagonist would have created a more resolute third act.
Ultimately, The Fallout manifests as a strong debut for Megan Park with a vital story for the unheard voices of an entire generation of American students.
