'So You've Grown Attached': A Tribute To Our Oldest Friends
Writer/director Kate Tsang illustrates the conclusion of one of life’s most coveted kinships. So You’ve Grown Attached (2014) is a classic in its aesthetic, no doubt; the black and white coating the footage in a ‘remember when’ nostalgia. So You’ve Grown Attached is a classic in a deeper sense, though, in so far as it offers a unique commentary on the human condition in its exploration of a seldom-visited ecosystem. The story follows Izzy and her friend Ex. It stands near to movies like Monsters Inc. or Toy Story in concept, but far from them in tone. Think, The Twilight Zone meets The Iron Giant. Izzy is 11, and her best friend, Ex, is… imaginary.
Making mundanity out of the extraordinary is fertile soil for comedy films. It works at every time of day, from Mr. Incredible trying to contain his rage at his desk job (The Incredibles), to a teddy bear drinking beers with a Boston accent (Ted). So You’ve Grown Attached deals with Ex, a figment of his creator’s imagination, and his dealing with the prospect of retirement as a result of her growing up. The principle here is the same: a faceless, voiceless enigma navigating the bureaucracy of the modern workplace. But there’s more than comedy in here. There is an emotional vein in all of us that Tsang has tapped into; what it means to grow older. What is gained in independence or romance, is weighed against what is lost in imagination?
A script is always arguably the most important feature of any film, but in this instance, this is especially true. To nail the concept, without trivializing the subject matter, is the most important task at hand. Equipping Ex with some elaborate, whacky wardrobe or zany voice seems like an easy trap to fall into if you’re mimicking the imagination of an 11-year-old. Instead, Tsang made much wiser choices about Ex as an entity. Faceless, only two eyes and eyebrows were added in post-production. Eyes to humanize him, and eyebrows to allow for a range of emotion. Ex doesn’t speak, rather he holds up speech cards. Simple. And continuing the trend in this minimalistic direction are the scene transitions - using cartoon explosions and old school spin-style transitions. This short film is youthful in that way, appropriately echoing the world of its subject. Sound effects when somebody is moving fast, or computer-generated sparkles on the wheels of a bicycle - the alcohol pad and the rubber tourniquet, respectively.
Perhaps the best way to articulate it is to take a page from Tsang’s book, and keep it simple: Growing up is happy. And it’s sad. And this film is both of those things. The uninhibited temerity of childhood, personified - and we’re all given a pair of eyes to look into as we say goodbye to it. The film isn’t sappy, and it knows when to move on. It doesn’t ask you for more in each moment than it deserves, a common mistake in this realm. Sad, dramatic storylines centering around death and pain, while often very compelling, are more than plentiful in the short film world - and not by coincidence. These projects aim to pack a punch in a short timeframe - so making appeals to the things that people are generally obsessed with is understandably routine. However, So You’ve Grown Attached finds its own unique entrance into our neocortices, and starts pulling levers. Check out this short film, and for fifteen minutes, bring your imagination out of retirement.