Words on Bathroom Walls is a combination teen romance/family drama/coming-of-age story that aims for a sensitive, nuanced take on schizophrenia…and mostly pulls it off. Anchored by a stellar cast, the movie, which is based on Julia Walton’s book of the same name, follows the story of Adam Petrazelli (Charlie Plummer), a witty, soft-spoken high school senior who wants to go to culinary school after graduation. After he has a psychotic break in chemistry class, injuring a classmate and getting expelled in the process, Adam is diagnosed with schizophrenia.
Though the narrative glosses over many aspects of mental illness for the sake of efficient storytelling — including the long and difficult road most people take before they get a correct diagnosis (if they ever get one at all) — the film captures other subtleties of living with a psychiatric disorder and ultimately tells a hopeful and empathetic story about the stigma and struggle involved with living as a mentally ill person.
The film hits some familiar story beats, but its incredible cast manages to make them feel less cliché. Charlie Plummer is eminently likable as Adam: he is thoughtful, open, earnest, and vulnerable, conveying the fear and hopelessness that often accompany mental illness in a moving way. After Adam’s diagnosis, his devoted mother Beth (Molly Parker) throws herself into learning everything she can about the illness — reading every book and online forum on the subject, taking Adam to every specialist she can find, and eventually enrolling him in a clinical drug trial in her search for a “cure.” She also enrolls him in a new school (a private Catholic academy, which amuses the atheistic Adam) in an attempt to help him start fresh and finish high school so he can pursue his dream as a professional chef.
Unfortunately, the film never really addresses the financial privilege Adam has in being able to afford these medical treatments and his new private school, though it makes a few perfunctory references to the issue of homelessness among people with schizophrenia. On top of that, the film fails to acknowledge the likelihood that, if he weren’t wealthy and white, Adam would be in jail due to his occasional violent outbursts.
The principal of his new school, Sister Catherine (Beth Grant), is wary of Adam’s “challenges,” as she calls his diagnosis, and gives Adam strict rules to follow to guarantee his continued enrollment. To maintain the required GPA, he seeks out a tutor, the blunt and self-consciously tough Maya (Taylor Russell), with whom Adam is immediately smitten. They’re both keeping secrets from one another — Adam hides his schizophrenia as much as he can and Maya pretends to be far more affluent than she really is — but they begin a tentative romance, bonding over pre-calculus, cheese, and a mutual love for Never Been Kissed.
Hiding his symptoms becomes more difficult for Adam, and things at school and home begin to unravel quickly. He stops taking his new meds once he realizes that the price for having fewer hallucinations and paranoid episodes is one he’s not willing to pay. In addition to a host of other physical side effects, Adam loses his sense of taste, which is a deal-breaker for an aspiring chef who depends on his palette to create dishes.
So the hallucinations come back and, just like before, they take the form of four different entities: an inky presence that sometimes bleeds into Adam’s reality with a distorted voice telling him that all his worst fears are true and three imaginary people who represent different aspects of Adam’s personality. Rebecca (AnnaSophia Robb) is a loving and optimistic flower child. Adam, who narrates much of the movie and addresses the camera directly as a stand-in for his psychiatrist, describes Rebecca as the “Dalai Lama meets Coachella…always zen.” Joaquin (Devon Bostick) is the embodiment of Adam’s libido, lounging hilariously in boxers and an open robe and constantly urging Adam to make a move on Maya. Bostick is perfect as the comic relief, defusing tense moments and stealing scenes with as little as a smirk or an eyebrow raise. The Bodyguard (Lobo Sebastian) represents Adam’s anger: he’s very protective and quick to action, lurking nearby and wielding a bat whenever Adam feels threatened. Though all three actors are terrific in their roles, this concept of identity-fragments-as-hallucinations serves as one of the more problematic areas of the film, since it appears to be conflating schizophrenia with dissociative identity disorder, two very different illnesses that are often confused for one another.
Rounding out the cast is Walton Goggins as Paul, Beth’s live-in boyfriend who butts heads with Adam over just about everything, and Andy Garcia as Father Patrick, the warm and funny priest who often gives Adam advice in the school confessional. Both actors add remarkable depth and humanity to their characters that keep them from becoming stock teen movie archetypes. Paul comes across as the bad guy early on in the movie, as he struggles to deal with being a new stepdad to a schizophrenic teenager, but Goggins imbues his character arc with such empathy and nuance that he becomes one of the more interesting characters despite not having as much screen time. Father Patrick is a supportive and grounding force in Adam’s life but, to the movie’s credit, Adam doesn’t find God in some redemptive third-act miracle that “cures” his schizophrenia. In fact, Adam plainly states that there is no cure and that he will struggle with the symptoms of his illness and finding the right combination of medications for the rest of his life.
Words on Bathroom Walls oversimplifies its tale of mental illness, leaning toward a “love conquers all” message, but it does express some important truths. The film acknowledges the importance of a multi-pronged approach to treating mental illness. Adam is in psychotherapy, takes medication, and has a support system that knows how to help him manage his symptoms. Though it doesn’t take its lead character’s privilege into account, the film recognizes the stigma associated with mental illness and seems intent on undoing that stigma. Adam just wants to live and love and grow like everyone else, and the film never views him with anything other than empathy. Most importantly, it treats him as a whole person who is not defined solely by his illness. Words on Bathroom Walls is far from perfect, but — due in large part to its phenomenal cast — it’s an enjoyable teen dramedy that takes a positive step forward in onscreen mental health representation.
