The first word heard in “Feeling Randy” is “boner,” which, when taken together with the film’s title, promises a salacious and raunchy comedy. But writer-director Dean Lent’s debut feature (not counting the 1987 anthology film “Border Radio”) is sweeter and much more sublime than the usual teenage-boys-trying-to-lose-their-virginity romp. That may be its plot, but this semiautobiographical project is far from films like “Porky’s” or “American Pie.” Set in the Bay Area in the 1970s, “Feeling Randy” offers a humorous and sensitive portrayal of coming to terms with one’s sexuality.
Announcing its irreverent tone through sly chapter titles written in period-appropriate Recoleta font, and a droll voiceover from its eponymous lead (Reid Miller), “Feeling Randy” wastes no time establishing its premise and then keeps the narrative rhythm flowing. The setup is simple: Four teenage boys plan to lose their virginity by taking a road trip to a Nevada brothel. They need to find a car and to procure some money. Meanwhile, the lead character has to deal with his parents, sister, a new friend at school and a peculiar older boy who stirs perplexing feelings in him.
Randy is called everything from “dandy” to “weird” by his friends, in the way that teenage boys can be cruel and honest at the same time. To his credit, Lent never explicitly announces the character’s sexuality nor makes the film a coming-out story. Instead, this is about a teenage boy whom the audience recognizes as gay but is completely unaware of his true identity. A queer sensibility is paramount in the storytelling as the film’s humor and sensibilities are always unexpected and slightly off-center, vacillating between sweet and odd.
On the sweet side, there is Randy’s relationship with his understanding mother (Marguerite Moreau) with whom he shares a love of TV shows and who always shows him that she loves him. There’s also the new girl at school, Melissa (Kerrice Brooks) with whom he starts an awkward courtship before they both realize that even though they have much in common, they’ll never be lovers. Both Moreau and Brooks give “Feeling Randy” a warmth in which both the characters and the audience can bask.
Meanwhile, Randy’s relationship with his father (Jonathan Sileverman) is definitely odd. More interested in his broken-down station wagon than he is in his family, Dad has bizarre extracurricular activities that add more strain to his relationship with Randy. At the same time, he might be the one family member who knows Randy well, even if his reactions to him go from exasperation to cruelty. It’s a nifty bit of casting as Silverman is mostly known for comedies such as “Weekend at Bernie’s” and here plays the only character written without humor.
Blaine Kern III plays a stoned older boy who treats Randy with good humor and a generosity unbecoming of teenage boys. Perhaps he’ll turn out to be a romantic interest, of maybe he’s just a mentor type who can guide Randy along. That he never quite becomes either and his relationship with Randy remains fluid and mostly unexplained is what gives “Feeling Randy” more of the chaotic-yet-gentle capacity that makes it much more intriguing than the usual teenage comedy.
As with most road-trip movies, when the boys reach their destination, it doesn’t go exactly as they thought it would. There’s nothing raunchy or overtly lewd about their encounters with the sex workers; they might be awkward, but there’s also compassion. Randy’s in particular is well observed, even touching, and hints at his true sexuality, even if he still leaves confused.
True to the film around him, Miller has a warm and sanguine presence. Yet there’s still a glint in his eyes that betrays the mischief he’s bound to get into in the future. The color and hues of the appealing costume design and cinematography add an authentic 1970s look. In making a film about his formative experiences, Lent uses subtle innuendos to arrive at complete clarity about sexuality without being obvious. That’s no easy feat. That he did it while telling a story both moving and funny is something to be admired.