Griffin in Summer

In a languid suburb where endless days stretch over a house with a pool under construction, Griffin spends his summer not chasing typical teenage pastimes but laboring over a play that fuses the sharpness of classic drama with the melancholy of his own family’s friction. At fourteen, he already dreams of New York stages, rehearsing lines in the backyard and sketching scenes that mirror the quiet unraveling he observes at home. The tone of his world is a blend of earnest ambition and the breezy uncertainty of youth, a place where imagination turns ordinary summer heat into a crucible for creativity.

The household is a subtle stage of its own. Helen, Griffin’s mother, and Bill, his father, navigate a marriage that feels both familiar and strained, providing the raw material for his writing. His best friend, Kara, steps in as the would‑be director, while a close‑knit circle of classmates—Winnie, Pam, and Tyler—offers the promise of a makeshift troupe. Their camaraderie is marked by the usual mix of teenage loyalty and the occasional clash of egos, setting the scene for a collaborative endeavor that feels as much about personal growth as about the performance.

Into this mix arrives Brad, a 25‑year‑old handyman hired to work on the family pool. He carries his own artistic baggage, having chased acting dreams in New York before returning home. His presence introduces a new rhythm: the thump of techno music from his worksite, the scent of fresh paint, and an unexpected, quiet charisma that catches Griffin’s eye. What begins as irritation soon hints at a deeper curiosity, as the teenage playwright sees in Brad a living embodiment of the theatrical world he so desperately wants to join.

The film balances the gentle humor of adolescent schemes with the tender ache of unspoken longing. It paints a summer that feels both timeless and charged, where the boundaries between creator and muse blur, and where each character navigates the delicate act of discovering who they are while the vague promise of a future stage—and perhaps something more—glimmers just beyond the backyard fence.

Last Updated: December 03, 2025 at 23:31