TEEN SPIRIT. On Fulfilling Dreams Abroad

We all know the story: a poor teenage girl has talent and dreams tied to it, but a cruel fate throws her into a seemingly hopeless situation. Her environment mocks her, her family doesn’t understand, obstacles pile up one after another, and yet her heart keeps pulling her toward the impossible, toward the faint light at the end of life’s dark tunnel. This is exactly the case with the film Teen Spirit, the directorial debut of Max Minghella. The filmmaker shamelessly draws from widely used narrative tropes, and yet he delivers a digestible, charming story about the power of dreams and the importance of striving for self-realization.

Even the opening sequence reveals all the elements that Minghella will gradually use throughout the film. Teenage Violet Valenski (Elle Fanning) lives on a small island off the coast of Great Britain with her mother (Agnieszka Grochowska). Her mother, a Polish immigrant abandoned years ago by her husband, is barely making ends meet with her daughter. Their days are filled with working in a bar, tending a small farm, and visiting the local parish. The situation seems hopeless, but what are dreams for if not to escape the grim reality?

Because Violet can sing. And she does it beautifully—first giving a taste of her talent at a local bar, then applying to a talent show called “Teen Spirit” to try her luck. She advances through the competition despite never having professional vocal training or exuding much confidence. She simply shows up in a worn tracksuit, no makeup, stands before the prestigious jury, and starts enchanting with her finely tuned voice. While her mother doesn’t actively block her artistic ambitions, most of the help comes from a chance acquaintance—Vlad (Zlatko Burić), an aging man with the look of a drifter who insists he was once a respected opera singer.

There’s no denying it: Teen Spirit stands on the narrative legs of the mentor-friend relationship between Violet and Vlad. He becomes a father figure, a teacher, and emotional support. The Croatian actor has fun with the role, tossing off casual jokes. Unfortunately, the depiction of the mother-daughter bond is less successful. Agnieszka Grochowska is confined to the archetype of the devout, overworked Polish Mother, with little room for her character to grow.

Meanwhile, Elle Fanning shines throughout the ninety-minute spectacle. She’s withdrawn, intensely introverted, but the moment she starts singing, a true stage beast emerges. All her inner walls crumble, her insecurities vanish, and all that remains is the raw truth of her gifted soul. Not only does the American actress sing excellently, but she also moves on stage like a seasoned performer. Building a role on extremes—in this case, between life inertia and artistic ferocity—was a risky move, but she navigates the “altered states” of her character with skill, embodying the clash of fear and hunger for life within.

This acting success would not be possible without the film’s strong formal qualities, particularly the cinematography by Autumn Durald. The cinematographer captures every nuance: at times showcasing rural landscapes in the style of Terrence Malick, at others embracing an indie spirit by closely studying the characters’ facial twitches. One moment she casts the characters in darkness, the next she bathes them in pulsing neon. She masterfully controls the visual sphere, allowing viewers to sensually immerse themselves in the story’s world.

Teen Spirit also excels sonically, although not without its flaws. The filmmakers clearly struggled with Fanning’s Polish-language lines, which are quieter than the rest of the dialogue and difficult to understand, especially given her limited fluency.

Still, musically the film is polished down to the smallest detail. The young actress has a great voice, and the chosen repertoire is catchy enough to make you tap your foot. The soundtrack features reimagined tracks by artists like Robyn and Ellie Goulding, which come across as convincing in their new arrangements.

The audiovisual layer reinforces the film’s message. Max Minghella doesn’t use pop music merely for its catchiness. He sees in it a genuine force that allows a believing teenager to achieve her dreams. He consciously builds the film’s world with pastel colors and candy-like sounds, suggesting that it’s naive faith that holds the key to triumph. It’s not hard work, toil, or sacrifice that are the core ingredients of success, but a God-given spark and unshaken belief in overcoming bad luck. Saying that the debut is a tale to uplift the spirit might be an overstatement, but it’s telling how effortlessly the director helps the protagonist overcome barriers.

That’s why Minghella’s film should be seen primarily as a personal experience. Expecting psychological depth or intellectual rigor will only lead to disappointment.

The director aims to evoke positive emotions and create an overwhelmingly beautiful impression. Picture this: you’re at the beach with friends, the moon is your only source of light, the sea is whispering, and your favorite music is playing in the background.

That is Teen Spirit in a nutshell—a postcard from youthful wonder, a waking dream of fulfilled aspirations, a summer breeze brushing against sun-warmed skin. These sensations fade quickly, but their traces linger long in the human memory.