Griffin in Summer is an American independent film that immediately caught my attention. The quirky poster showing a young boy with a peculiar expression hints at a story about a confident, unique kid stepping into adolescence. Going in, I expected an indie Coming-of-Age story with surprises, and the film delivers from the very first moments.
The opening talent show sets the mood with anticipation and awkwardness, while Griffin’s confident yet unconventional performance immediately marks him as a distinctive young voice.
The close-up of Griffin on stage during the school talent show demonstates his skill and hints at his vulnerability early on. His monologue, touching on themes beyond his years, is both intriguing and a little uneasy, highlighting the gap between his insight and what others around him might notice. The establishing shots of American suburbia set the story in a familiar place, contrasting Griffin’s boldness with the ordinary world around him.
Dialogue with his mother shows how much Griffin loves theater and how he’d rather focus on it than do typical “boyish” summer activities. He’s an aspiring playwright, which drives his confidence and dedication. Interestingly, he mostly calls his mother by name instead of “Mom,” which makes their relationship feel a bit distant and shows how independent he is. He only calls her “Mom” later, in a moment when he really needs her, giving the scene a subtle emotional weight.
The concern in the household comes mostly from his mother, as his father is largely absent and not very involved, making Griffin’s individuality and self-reliance even more striking. This dynamic echoes the tension seen in Young Sheldon, with Iain Armitage’s character, where a parent struggles to understand a gifted child.
Later, Griffin notices the man his mother hired for repairs, Brad (Owen Teague), who becomes an older brother-like figure to him. Griffin even swears a little (“shit”) to sound more mature. The scene is funny and awkward — Griffin repeats himself nervously, trying to appear cool, while Brad mostly ignores him. There’s a quiet spark in the way Griffin watches Brad, a mix of admiration and curiosity that feels more personal than casual. Close-ups and tracking shots on Griffin’s face capture his tension and excitement, highlighting his emerging social awareness and experimentation with identity.
Everett Blunck carries the film as Griffin. On screen for most of the film, his expressive face keeps you engaged, making the character compelling. It’s interesting that he’s from Montana and mostly did Westerns before — quite a change from this artsy, Coming-of-Age role. Griffin reminded me a bit of Nate, Rueby Wood’s character in Better Nate Than Ever, both in confidence and individuality, and in how their personalities stand out in their world. He also shares qualities with Gil, P.J. Verhoest’s character in A Very Serious Person (2006), both in personality and in the overall feel of the story, adding another reference for fans of thoughtful adolescent films.
The film is full of Coming-of-Age themes, focusing on Griffin’s self-discovery but also touching nearly all characters. There are subtle hints and layered details throughout the story — little nuances and innuendos that keep you watching closely and noticing something new each time. The final close-up of Griffin is especially powerful, and the film often feels like a play he might have written — creative, layered, and reflective.
I really enjoyed the film. Its independent feel, quirkiness, and strong central character make it a fresh experience. Fans of Coming-of-Age cinema will appreciate the depth and character focus, but even those who don’t usually watch the genre will find something different and engaging here. Griffin’s story delivers a thoughtful, well-acted, and unique Coming-of-Age journey, with enough charm and subtlety to linger in your mind long after the credits roll.
