Strangely enough, Michael Kang's sleepy indie debut, ""The Motel,"" arrives in theaters as an excellent companion piece to ""Jackass: Number Two."" After all, both films are about suffering, adolescence and male protagonists acting badly. Whereas Johnny Knoxville and his crew can hardly go two minutes without exposing their genitals, however, Kang's film shows something far more revealing—heart.
Set in a suburban hole-in-the-wall, Kang's coming-of-ager centers around Ernest Chin (in a brilliant performance by newcomer Jeffrey Chyau), a chubby, unassuming, teenage junk food junkie forced to scrub the toilets at his mother's pay-by-the-hour motel with a smile. Abandoned by his father, discouraged by his mother, harassed by bullies and ignored by Christine, the object of his love, Ernest's life sucks.
All that begins to change, however, after the arrival of Sam (Sung Kang), a surrogate father of sorts who buys a motel room for a quickie, then decides to stick around for awhile, imparting bits of wisdom along the way, like: ""Don't ever let anyone tell you porn is bad."" Knocking Ernest out of a cocoon of passivity, Sam teaches him to drive, corrects his baseball throw and pushes him to pursue Christine, all of which are played out to varying degrees of success. It's in exploring this relationship that ""The Motel"" shines, building up to a touching moment in which the two dance in front of the headlights of their car, screaming, ""I want to be happy. I want to be happy now.""
Ultimately, though, the film is not about happiness—it's about being 13, which is anything but. Kang's film is one of the more truthful accounts of adolescence, a time when bullies attack without reason, cigarettes induce fits of coughing and receiving an ""honorable mention"" award is even more insulting than losing. The film is currently being marketed with the tagline, ""Puberty Sucks!"" Watching Ernest's drama unfold, it's easy to understand why.
Despite its successes, ""The Motel"" falls short of being a great film. Like his 13-year-old protagonist, Kang seems a bit self conscious in his directorial debut, occasionally falling into the trappings of the modern independent film. Not only is ""The Motel"" the latest in a long line of indies to overexploit a hipster soundtrack, but it is also guilty of self-indulgence, as in the case of shots of Ernest leaping from a dumpster and fighting invisible ninjas or leading a conga line of characters with his motel cleaning cart, shots that all but scream: ""Napoleon Dynamite!"" ""Garden State!""
When all is said and done, ""The Motel"" rises above most of the films from which it steals, kept afloat primarily by Kang's obvious empathy for his characters and gift for quiet observation. Much like the rundown motel at which it's set, the film is not for everyone. Those looking for plot, action and happy endings would do best to look elsewhere—like the Hilton, or a nearby multiplex. For those willing to sacrifice a little gloss for character, ""The Motel"" has plenty to offer, and will likely prove a rewarding stay.
