This unlikely sleeper poses an essential question for disenchanted teenagers: is quality time with your family better than being chained to the door of a refrigerator? For coal-miner's son Keanu Reeves the answer is a no-brainer: his father is a Vietnam War veteran turned ultra-conservative; his feisty mother is having an affair with dad's best buddy; and his only friend is a socially marginalized, die-hard hippie. Meanwhile everyone thinks Reeves has problems, but he's only trying to avoid conforming to Middle America's messy ideas about normality. And since a rebel in the 1980s needs some sort of cause, he invents one: kidnapping his own father and holding him hostage. There's more than one contrivance in the otherwise original and unpredictable screenplay: the young protagonist's mechanical aptitude and closet intellect (he likens himself to Socrates, who was killed for daring to tell the truth) don't fit his delinquent image, and the kidnapping scheme carries the plot too far into fantasy. But if nothing else the film is an offbeat satire of modern domestic friction, and a refreshing change of pace from the usual condescending screen treatments of adolescent angst.
Review of The Prince of Pennsylvania
