Director: Chandler Levack
Writer: Chandler Levack
Stars: Barbie Ferriera, Jay Baruchel, Devon Bostick
Synopsis: A 23-year-old music critic gets romantically involved with members of an indie band she decides to publicize, set against Montreal’s indie music scene in 2011.
There’s an inherent beauty to how personally Chandler Levack’s Mile End Kicks begins. Grace Pine (a delightfully human Barbie Ferreira) is in a dingy basement as Canadian indie rock band “Islands” is on stage. The audience is packed shoulder-to-shoulder, only rivaled by how tightly crowded the band themselves appear on stage. But none of this matters to Grace. As she passionately scribbles her thoughts down onto a tiny notepad, it’s as if all her dreams are being formulated and completed simultaneously. To see such fun critic representation on screen is a treat.
There’s beauty to be discovered in dark rooms such as these, where great art seems to frequently inhabit and grow wild. Losing yourself in art is a beautiful thing, and when that passion is discovered, giving it your all provides you with such a fulfilling relationship. And that is something both felt and innately understood in Levack’s semi-autobiographical film. She, too, was a young music critic in the early 2010s. And although much of Mile End Kicks is steeped in clear specificities mined from personal experience and nostalgic memories of a time long gone, there’s a universal appeal to how Levack writes Grace and how Ferreira portrays her. Levack shows how easy it is to lose oneself amidst a sea of possibility. It can be deeply exciting as we acknowledge the bevvy of roads in front of us, but there’s also paths that should clearly be avoided. But for Grace, who is 23 and finds herself in the cultural music hub of Mile End, Montreal, those warning signs aren’t necessarily at the forefront of her mind. And who can blame her?
Grace finds herself heading off to Mile End with the intention of writing a commissioned book about the legendary Alanis Morissette record, “Jagged Little Pill.” As she packs up her things from her parents home, there’s a nervous anticipation. But at the end of the day, she can’t wait to get aboard that bus and find herself starting a brand-new chapter of her life on her own terms. After a long bus trip and cab ride provide ample time for the creation of a summertime to-do list, Grace finally arrives at her Craigslist-secured apartment. Ferreira perfectly captures the wide-eyed excitement at her glamorous new life, before Levack comically captures the reality: lugging a heavy suitcase up a tightly-designed staircase in a brand-new place is often incredibly annoying. But that’s not enough, nor is the absurdly loud sex her roommate’s having, to deter Grace from losing her smile. She’s here with a singular focus: to nail her “Jagged Little Pill” pitch to begin the next dreamy chapter of her life. Yet, despite such drive, Ferreira delivers this scene with such a simple and efficient duality.
On one hand, Ferreira perfectly exudes the confidence of somebody who feels the divine calling to create something beautiful and meaningful. But on the other hand, Ferreira also plays her exactly as Grace is: a nerve-wracked 23-year-old woman hoping to feel validated by somebody on the other end of an interview in an industry often dominated by older men. As she delivers her pitch, the glimpses caught of the push-and-pull of emotions in Grace make it so evident how lucky we are that Ferreira escaped the trenches of Euphoria. And so, Mile End Kicks finds itself off to the races. But only a short time later, the film finds its lead character grappling with stagnancy. It’s in this classic writer’s dilemma that Levack crafts the central conflict of her film. Extending beyond something only relatable to writers, Levack turns the attention of her central character to the most common distractions known to humans: developing a crush.
Through her roommate, Grace is introduced to the Mile End-local band “Bone Patrol.” Two of its members are integral to this story: lead guitarist Archie (a ridiculously charming Devon Bostick) and frontman Chevy (an intentionally insufferable, self-righteous, irritating, ridiculous Stanley Simons). It really cannot be fully expressed how different these two young men are in the film, but both performers play up their personas to such wonderful heights. For all the endearing qualities and quirky mannerisms Bostick delivers as Archie, Simons will do something as Chevy that will make you want to tear your hair out and scream at the screen.
So, of course, Levack has it so that Grace cannot seem to focus on anything other than the latter boy. In that deeply frustrating choice of who to direct her attention to comes the central idea of Mile End Kicks. There’s no denying Grace has a passion for music and writing about it. So to see how easily she lets herself get whisked away from her summer goals by her emotions is disheartening. But it’s an honest reminder that we all were once merely growing up and trying to figure out our place amongst the confusion of everything around us. Grace, like any one of us, makes mistakes. Of course this will frustrate an audience, but that’s Levack’s point! We are meant to empathize with Grace and ultimately hope she finds herself back on track. We actively want to see her write whatever her heart and mind truly desires to express. There’s a beautifully cathartic moment in the third act of this film that rests on Ferreira’s ability to deliver a layered, raw performance. In it, Levack’s film soars beyond certain shortcomings such as feeling a bit repetitive. After all, many young adults do in fact make the same mistake more than once.
In the end, this is as much a love letter to “Jagged Little Pill” and Montreal as it is an ode to art that impacts us on a fundamental level. At the very foundation of every relationship between art and artist, there is a connection that is unique to the individual. It’s that truth which makes a film like this all the more special. That Levack can mine her own specific experiences in an insular industry and setting to create such a universal piece of art is wonderful. When introducing the film at its world premiere, Levack was cited as mentioning how healing it can be to mine one’s life when creating art. That catharsis is felt in the very bones of Miles End Kicks, and it translates quite well to an audience. Who knows how identical this story is to Levack’s own, but at the very least, her film shows us all that it’s okay to look back on one’s past mistakes with a wince on our faces. Ultimately, forgiving ourselves for whatever occurred, confronting manipulative and shady/cruel behavior with direct action, and smiling from the lessons we’ve learned is sometimes all we can do. Plus, having beautiful art in our lives almost certainly helps.
Mile End Kicks is celebrating its world premiere in the Special Presentations category of the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.
