Griffin in Summer (2025) [Movie review]
Griffin in Summer took me a minute to finish. There’s something deeply uncomfortable about watching a teenager’s first crush unfold with the theatrical intensity of a Tennessee Williams play, and Nicholas Colia’s Griffin in Summer transforms this cringe-inducing premise into one of the most authentically hilarious coming-of-age comedies in recent memory. What I discovered instead was a film that captures the specific agony and ecstasy of being fourteen with such surgical precision that I found myself physically squirming in recognition of my own adolescent disasters.
The first-time feature director, expanding his 2017 short film “Alex and the Handyman,” has crafted a suburban comedy that uses the world of amateur theater to explore themes of artistic ambition, sexual awakening, and the particular brand of narcissism that comes with being a gifted teenager who thinks they’ve already figured out the world. Currently playing in select theaters through Vertical Entertainment, Griffin in Summer reveals itself as both a loving satire of precocious young artists and a surprisingly empathetic portrait of the isolation that comes with being different from your peers.
Table of Contents
Griffin in Summer isn’t just another queer coming-of-age story seeking to educate audiences about LGBTQ+ experiences – Griffin in Summer operates as a meditation on how artistic passion and romantic obsession can become indistinguishable at a certain age, and how the intensity of adolescent emotion can make every minor interaction feel like life-or-death drama.
Having covered numerous coming-of-age films at AndersonVision, I’ve learned to distinguish between movies that simply use teenage characters and those that actually understand the specific emotional landscape of adolescence. Griffin in Summer succeeds precisely because it takes its protagonist’s artistic ambitions seriously while never losing sight of how ridiculous he appears to everyone around him. Colia understands that the most effective way to honor the intensity of teenage experience is to acknowledge both its genuine passion and its inherent absurdity.
The film’s approach to its queer themes demonstrates remarkable sophistication, presenting Griffin’s sexuality as simply one aspect of his personality rather than the central “issue” that needs to be resolved through dramatic revelation or family conflict.
When Genius Meets Hormones (Spoiler Alert: Chaos Ensues)
The story of Griffin in Summer begins with perhaps the most mortifying talent show performance in cinema history. Fourteen-year-old Griffin Nafly (Everett Blunck) takes the stage at his school’s end-of-year assembly to perform an excerpt from his latest play, “Regrets of Autumn,” which he helpfully describes as “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf meets American Beauty.” Playing both the roles of alcoholic housewife and philandering husband, Griffin delivers an intense domestic drama to an audience of bewildered teenagers who just want to get to summer vacation.
Everett Blunck delivers what can only be described as a star-making performance as Griffin, capturing both the character’s insufferable pretensions and genuine vulnerability with remarkable precision. Blunck, a Montana native making his feature film debut, brings natural charisma to what could have been an unlikable character. His Griffin feels authentically fourteen – simultaneously too old for his age in his artistic sophistication and desperately young in his emotional understanding. Blunck never allows the character to become a simple caricature of a precocious theater kid, instead creating a fully realized person whose artistic passion masks deeper loneliness and confusion.
Griffin’s carefully planned summer of theatrical production gets disrupted when his mother Helen (Melanie Lynskey) hires Brad Rizzo (Owen Teague) as a handyman to work on their pool area. Twenty-five years old and recently returned from a failed performance art career in New York’s Bushwick neighborhood, Brad represents everything Griffin dreams of becoming – a real artist who actually made it to the city, even if he’s now reduced to cleaning pools in suburban Massachusetts.
Melanie Lynskey creates a perfectly calibrated portrait of maternal overwhelm as Helen, a woman dealing with her own marital crisis while trying to manage her impossible son. Lynskey, whose presence in any project serves as a reliable indicator of quality, brings her characteristic blend of warmth and sardonic wit to the role. Her Helen loves Griffin deeply but has no idea how to parent such an unusual child, leading to hilarious moments where she treats him more like a difficult roommate than her teenage son.
Owen Teague, fresh from his leading role in Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, transforms himself completely as Brad, creating a character who embodies both Griffin’s romantic fantasies and the harsh reality of artistic failure. Teague’s Brad is genuinely sympathetic – a talented but directionless young man whose dreams of performance art success have collided with economic necessity. Yet Teague also makes Brad’s obliviousness to Griffin’s feelings feel authentic rather than cruel, showing how self-absorption can blind us to the impact we have on others.
The relationship between Griffin and Brad forms the emotional center of Griffin in Summer, and both Blunck and Teague navigate the age-appropriate boundaries of their dynamic with remarkable skill. Griffin’s attraction to Brad develops naturally from admiration for his artistic background to full-blown romantic obsession, while Brad remains genuinely unaware of the teenager’s feelings. The film treats Griffin’s crush with the seriousness it deserves while never forgetting how inappropriate and ultimately doomed it is.
The Theater of Teenage Cruelty
Colia’s vision of suburban Massachusetts creates a perfect backdrop for Griffin’s artistic pretensions and romantic delusions. Working with cinematographer who captures both the suffocating familiarity of subdivision life and the moments of genuine beauty that Griffin finds in unexpected places. Griffin in Summer presents suburbia as a place where artistic ambition feels both impossible and essential – too small to contain Griffin’s dreams but also the only world he knows.
The production design recreates contemporary suburban life with meticulous attention to the details that define middle-class existence. The Nafly family home feels authentically lived-in, with the casual accumulation of objects and decorative choices that suggest both comfort and stagnation. The film’s period accuracy serves the story rather than becoming nostalgic, providing context for Griffin’s desperation to escape while showing why that escape feels so necessary.
The supporting cast of Griffin in Summer fills out this world with memorable character work that enhances the film’s exploration of how artistic passion can isolate us from our peers. Abby Ryder Fortson, fresh from her breakout role in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, creates a wonderfully grounded presence as Kara, Griffin’s best friend and designated director. Fortson’s Kara serves as both enabler and voice of reason, supporting Griffin’s theatrical ambitions while gradually recognizing how his obsessions are affecting their friendship.
Kathryn Newton appears as Chloe, Brad’s girlfriend, in a performance that steals every scene she inhabits. Newton, known for her work in Big Little Lies and Freaky, brings manic energy to a character who could have been simply an obstacle to Griffin’s fantasies. Instead, Chloe becomes a fully realized person whose own relationship struggles mirror Griffin’s romantic confusion, adding depth to what could have been a thankless role.
The teenage ensemble surrounding Griffin creates an authentic sense of how fourteen-year-olds actually interact when the adults aren’t watching. Johanna Colón, Gordon Rocks, and Alivia Bellamy play Griffin’s fellow cast members, each bringing specific personality to roles that could have been generic. The film shows how Griffin’s artistic intensity initially attracts his peers but gradually becomes exhausting as they develop interests beyond his theatrical productions.
The Art of Emotional Manipulation
What sets Griffin in Summer apart from other coming-of-age comedies is Colia’s approach to the relationship between artistic expression and emotional development. Rather than treating Griffin’s playwriting as simply a quirky hobby, the director shows how creativity becomes both a refuge from family dysfunction and a way of processing experiences that are too complex to understand directly. Griffin’s plays serve as a mirror for his own life, with his domestic dramas reflecting his parents’ deteriorating marriage and his romantic confusion.
The screenplay by Colia creates characters who feel genuinely contemporary rather than generic. Griffin’s dialogue captures the specific way that intelligent teenagers speak – mixing sophisticated vocabulary with emotional immaturity, using artistic references to mask personal insecurity. The film’s humor emerges naturally from character rather than forced situations, making Griffin’s pretensions funny without making him a joke.
The film’s most powerful sequences involve Griffin’s gradual recognition that his artistic ambitions may be serving his emotional needs more than they’re serving actual art. When Griffin begins incorporating his feelings about Brad into “Regrets of Autumn,” Colia shows how teenage creativity can become a form of emotional processing that’s both necessary and potentially destructive.
The score by composer provides subtle support for the story without overwhelming the naturalistic performances. The music combines contemporary indie elements with classic coming-of-age themes, creating an atmosphere that feels both current and timeless. The musical choices never manipulate audience emotions artificially, instead providing organic support for the genuine humor and pathos unfolding on screen.
The editing maintains careful pacing that allows Griffin’s obsession with Brad to develop naturally while building tension around his deteriorating relationships with friends and family. The film’s structure, moving between Griffin’s theatrical activities and his growing romantic fixation, creates a sense of inevitable collision while providing time for character development and authentic relationship building.
The Cringe Comedy of Recognition
The second half of Griffin in Summer explores how Griffin’s unrealistic expectations about Brad begin affecting every aspect of his life. As Griffin incorporates more of Brad’s personality and background into his play, alienating his cast members who no longer recognize the material they signed up to perform, the film becomes a meditation on how romantic obsession can corrupt artistic vision.
Colia handles these sequences with particular sensitivity, showing how Griffin’s behavior becomes increasingly inappropriate without making him irredeemable. The film explores how teenage intensity can make us blind to other people’s boundaries while maintaining empathy for Griffin’s genuine confusion about adult relationships.
The theatrical sequences provide some of the film’s biggest laughs while serving its deeper themes about the relationship between art and life. When Griffin begins directing Brad in his play, casting him opposite himself in the lead roles, Griffin in Summer becomes a comedy of miscommunication that’s both hilarious and genuinely uncomfortable to watch.
The film’s climax involves Griffin’s gradual recognition that his feelings about Brad are both real and impossible, leading to moments of genuine emotional growth that feel earned rather than imposed by dramatic necessity. Colia doesn’t provide easy resolution to Griffin’s romantic confusion, instead showing how adolescent heartbreak becomes part of the process of learning to distinguish between love and infatuation.
The Universality of Artistic Adolescence
Viewing Griffin in Summer in the context of contemporary coming-of-age cinema reveals a film that speaks to experiences that transcend its specific queer themes. The film’s treatment of artistic ambition, family dysfunction, and the intensity of teenage emotion offers insights that apply to anyone who has ever felt different from their peers or struggled to balance creative passion with social acceptance.
Colia’s approach to the material demonstrates remarkable maturity for a first-time feature director. Griffin in Summer never condescends to its teenage characters or treats their concerns as inherently less important than adult problems. Instead, it shows how the emotional intensity of adolescence can make every experience feel like the most important thing that’s ever happened while maintaining perspective about the limited scope of teenage understanding.
The performances by the entire cast create an ensemble that feels authentic rather than constructed for dramatic effect. Blunck’s star-making turn as Griffin anchors the film, but every supporting player contributes to the overall sense of lived-in reality that makes the comedy feel grounded in genuine observation rather than sitcom exaggeration.
Griffin in Summer’s exploration of how artistic expression serves emotional development adds depth that elevates it above typical teen comedies. The film shows how creativity can become both a survival mechanism and a barrier to genuine connection, demonstrating that the same qualities that make someone special can also make them impossible to be around.
A Summer Worth Remembering
Griffin in Summer stands as an impressive feature debut for Nicholas Colia, demonstrating his ability to find universal truth within specific adolescent experiences. Griffin in Summer’s combination of authentic character observation and genuine comic timing creates a viewing experience that honors both the intensity of teenage emotion and the perspective that comes with surviving adolescence.
The film’s current limited theatrical release provides an opportunity to experience this remarkable ensemble work on the big screen, where the subtle performances and carefully observed details can be fully appreciated. For viewers seeking sophisticated comedy that doesn’t sacrifice emotional authenticity for easy laughs, Griffin in Summer offers rewards that extend far beyond its coming-of-age framework.
This film belongs in the conversation with other distinguished independent comedies that have successfully captured the specific experience of being young and different in suburban America. Like the work of other filmmakers who understand how to balance humor with genuine emotion, Griffin in Summer proves that the most effective coming-of-age stories emerge from specific character observation rather than generic situations.
For audiences interested in stories that celebrate artistic passion while acknowledging its potential for self-destruction, Griffin in Summer provides an experience that is both consistently funny and emotionally honest. The film reminds us that the intensity of first love and creative ambition can feel equally overwhelming at fourteen, and that learning to distinguish between the two is one of the most important lessons of growing up.
Griffin in Summer demonstrates that the best coming-of-age comedies aren’t about learning to fit in – they’re about learning to channel your differences into something that connects you with others rather than isolating you from them. Sometimes the most important artistic lesson is learning when to put down the pen and actually live the life you’re trying to write about.
This theatrical experience deserves to be seen by anyone who has ever been fourteen, fallen in love with the wrong person, or believed that their artistic vision was the most important thing in the world. Griffin in Summer isn’t just entertainment – it’s a reminder that the awkwardness of adolescence is both universal and survivable, and that the creative passion that makes us impossible teenagers might just be what saves us as adults.
Film Details:
- Director: Nicholas Colia
- Starring: Everett Blunck, Melanie Lynskey, Owen Teague, Abby Ryder Fortson, Kathryn Newton
- Runtime: 1 hour 33 minutes
- Rating: R
- Distributor: Vertical Entertainment
- Currently playing in select theaters
