Back on 29 January 2024 I wrote my trenchant, insightful, inventive, nuanced, analytical, and brilliant review of the 2001 cult classic Donnie Darko.  My basic argument at the time was that the film was a muddled, confusing mess, full of histrionic characters being romanticized for doing stupid, destructive things.  I also made the more difficult-to-prove claim that Donnie Darko contributed to our society’s current glamorization of mental illness, and (less difficult to prove) shaped the lives of countless, uninteresting goth chicks.

My take on the film generated what every blogger wants:  outrage.  This time, the outrage came from Ponty, a faithful reader and excellent contributor to this blog.  Ponty argued that I had completely missed the point of the film (to be fair, that was true—I didn’t see what the point was at all!), and that Donnie Darko is, in many ways, a tribute to the classic John Hughes films of the 1980s, albeit in more gothic dressing.  His excellent review also digs into a bit more of the title character’s motivations, making it clear that Donnie isn’t just going on a destructive bender for the fun of it, or even because he has schizophrenia, but because he is growing as a character.

At the time, I was not convinced.  I figured that Ponty was still seeing the film through the rose-tinted glasses of his youth (although that’s not fair to Ponty, who is an exquisite and clear-eyed reviewer), and that even if these points were true, the film portrayed them too obtusely.  Regardless, readers had two perspectives on the film and could make up their own minds—or, even better, go watch the thing.

I didn’t think about the flick again until last week, when watching The Last Drive-in with Joe Bob Briggs on Shudder.  Season 6, Episode 6 featured Donnie Darko, as well as guest Bob Berney, an indie film executive who was involved with the production and distribution of Donnie Darko.  At first, I moaned audibly, because I was going to have to sit through this film again (my personal rule is that, if Joe Bob Briggs shows a movie, even if I’ve already seen it, and especially if I disliked it, I have to watch it again, with his commentary segments).  As I watched and absorbed Joe Bob’s discussion of the film, however, I came to a new appreciation of it.

To be clear, I still don’t really like Donnie Darko.  But my distaste for the film is a bit more nuanced now.  Ponty makes the argument in his review that Donnie must make an important decision that will affect the lives of those around them.  Joe Bob also pulled this insight out in a more direct way (Ponty’s vagueness on this point is due to his not wanting to spoil the film):  Donnie chooses to sacrifice himself to the jet engine at the end of the film so that all of the trauma of the past few days or weeks in the film can be undone.

That, for me, explained Donnie’s motivation in a much more heroic light, and it helped me to appreciate the protagonist more.  Prior to that explanation, I really just thought Donnie was a self-destructive kid who was improperly treated for schizophrenia, and the film made him out to be this awesome, cool dude because he was petulant and murderous (he actually shoots a guy!).

I still don’t understand the film overall.  Neither, it seems, does Joe Bob Briggs or Bob Berney, both of whom have great insights into the movie, but who ultimately cannot explain exactly what the film is about or what it is trying to say.  I think Ponty gets the better of both of them in this regard.

When I started watching the film again, I found that I hated the first half.  Donnie is really insufferable, and while I get that the movie is trying to satirize and expose the dark underbelly of upper-middle-class suburban American life and families, it seems too on the nose.  It’s like a disaffected hipster waving his arms frantically, screaming, “Look at me, look at me!  I live in the best possible decade in human history and I’m still mad!”  Other than the awesome soundtrack, I just couldn’t stand the movie.

Then something turned.  About halfway through the film, and especially in the third act, something clicked and I actually enjoyed the film.  I still think Gretchen’s death (uh, spoiler alert) feels like something out of an after-school special about drunk driving or the like—and Donnie murdering Frank the man (not the bunny) in cold blood for mowing down Gretchen (she’s literally just lying in the street) still disturbs me—but once the talent show portion hits, everything in the film kind of popped into place.

Again, I still don’t claim to understand this movie.  I suspect that anyone claiming to do so is either overly confident in their analytical abilities or lying.  I think Ponty gets the closest of any commentary I’ve heard or read to nailing the film, but when even the film’s writer can’t say what the film is supposed to mean, no one is ever going to crack the egg definitively.  But Ponty does a good job of hammering the shell fragments to the wall.

My big takeaway:  this film does merit multiple viewings.  I’ve given three in my lifetime, two within the past six months.  I think at this point I can claim to have done my due diligence.  I still don’t like the movie—at least, I don’t like about half of it.  I also stand by my claims that the film—intentionally or otherwise—glamorizes mental illness, portraying it as some kind of superpower, and that the film promotes delinquency as some kind of cool rebellion.  I suspect it has done much to shape impressionable minds, especially those of teenaged women in the early 2000s, to think that men with bad traits and the veneer of countercultural intelligence are somehow the masculine ideal.

But for all of that, I can at least respect the movie for what it is, and for what (I think) it attempted to do.  There are tons of small details that rewards repeat viewing, and I think the handling of the fat Chinese girl is particularly compelling and sensitive.

So, I will begrudgingly say, “go watch Donnie Darko twice, six months apart.”