Written and Directed by Adam Rehmeier
Starring Kyle Gallner, Emily Skeggs, Lea Thompson and Pat Healy
Running time: 1 hour and 46 minutes

by Rosalie Kicks, Old Sport 

“He’s not real - he’s my music boyfriend.” 

In the year nineteen ninety-seven, teenage Kicks (Old Sport) would have been all about the punk rock love story (possibly even fairy tale) that is Dinner in America.

I would have worn out the vhs 📼 tape, got fashion inspiration from Patty (Emily Skeggs) and adorned my bedroom walls with John Q. Public’s portrait (Kyle Gallner). Much like Patty, at one point in time, I too adored a dude donned in black, was willing to drive sleep deprived across state lines to see him in concert and yet, he was not reallllly my friend or anything, he was simply my “music boyfriend”. Basically, Dinner in America would have been more than appreciated in my juvenile years - it would have been canonized. As I now approach my middle aged years, my tastes have improved (or I would like to think they have 😬?) which causes me to not have appreciation for an unapologetic, crude, meandering film such as this. 

In the bleak middle of Michigan suburbs lives twenty-something, childlike Patty, who manages to take socially awkward to an entire new level. Her life is turned upside down when she bumps into Simon in the alley of her dismal workplace, Pet Zone. Simon is a rough around the edges, pyromaniac street dweller that finds himself on the run from the cops due to suspicions of being a drug dealer. Logically (or not), Patty invites him into her home and to stay for family dinner. Upon seeking refuge with Patty’s family, in a wild turn of events it is found out that Simon is the mysterious masked lead singer, John Q. Public of her favorite punk band, “Psyops”. For quite some time, Patty has been obsessively sending letters to him along with some suggestive polaroids. 

Dinner in America took quite a while to get off the ground and I was once again left questioning the judgment of the director in deciding to edit his own film. In between the numerous dinner sequences and the excess dialogue, I was reminded just how much of an art-form editing is. It is a craft that requires much discipline, creativity and patience. As a director myself, I would find it incredibly difficult to cut my own film as I have poured my entire soul into a project and would not be able to let it go. Knowing what each shot entailed and the agony experienced over a particular scene can make the snipping decisions challenging. The final cut of Dinner in America came off as bloated, causing moments in which I unexpectedly zoned out. Despite there being some wonderful moments marked with quirky dialogue and entertaining incidents, I inevitably found that it did not push the narrative along or offer additional insight into the characters. 

A film like this would be much better suited with an eighty-seven or ninety minute run-time, which brings me to the script itself. I believe another set of eyes would have benefited Dinner in America’s overall story. One of my biggest issues with the script was the word choice. The use of language such as “f*gg*ot” and “re*t*rd” caused me to cringe. Utilizing such terms presented an overall douchey frat boy vibe that I prefer to steer clear from. Words used by brainless twerps. To be clear, this vernacular was not being utilized on the regular. Instead, it was more to distinguish what a bunch of a-holes the jock kids were. Their incompetent use of language was just one of numerous dislikable characteristics. Where the writer fails, though, is to address the wrongness of such language. Sure Simon and Patty have their moments to get one over on the insensitive disrespectful “popular” kids - but the error of their behavior is never corrected. A scene that was most irksome was when Simon enters Patty’s home, spots a family portrait of her mother and makes the stereotypical remark that her mother’s hair cut makes her look like “bull dyke”. He questions whether the mother actually sleeps with Patty’s father. I found this entire scene to be bothersome and confused by what the actual point was, as I thought I was supposed to be fond of Simon? This caused me to find him problematic. It should be noted, the character is far from perfect as he is introduced as making the moves on a girl’s mother (played by Marty’s mom aka Lea Thompson) that only moments ago, he was intending to hook-up with in the basement. Inescapably, this has the Sunday dinner go up in flames, literally. It was made clear, Simon is a punk that has no “Fs” to give, but there is a difference between being apathetic and a moron. The character comes off as unconventional but also despicable, which for me was slightly confusing. 

This was especially true, during some of the light hearted moments. Like after a successful tell-off of Patty’s crappy boss at Pet Zone, the two celebrate with a couple of burgers. Or when Patty realizes that Simon is her self-proclaimed “music boyfriend” aka John Q. Public, that she has been sending all her heartfelt letters adorned with Lisa Frank™ sparkly stickers to and they turn one of her poems into the catchiest song that was in my head all during Sundahhhhnce. In the Q and A session afterwards, I learned that the woman who portrayed Patty, Emily Skeggs, actually wrote the lyrics for the song as she was getting into character - which increased my fondness for this little tune even more.

There was much to like about this movie. I’d like to believe that the questionable and superfluous segments would have only been helped with additional sets of eyes on the script and in the cutting room. Filmmaking, it's all about that collaboration - you can quote me on that.