Entertainment
Ben Gibbard on that glow-up of a haircut and his love-hate relationship with L.A.
Twenty-one years ago, Ben Gibbard’s life changed twice in the span of eight months.
In February 2003, the frontman of Seattle’s Death Cab for Cutie released “Give Up,” the first (and only) album by his electro-pop side project the Postal Service; it went on to become an indie blockbuster, selling more than a million copies and spawning swoony millennial anthems like “Such Great Heights.” Gibbard doubled down in October of that year with Death Cab’s even swoonier “Transatlanticism,” which led to the band’s appearance on the hit teen soap “The O.C.” and a major-label deal with Atlantic Records.
Last fall, Death Cab and the Postal Service marked the 20th anniversary of both LPs with a tour on which each act performed its signature work from beginning to end. (Gibbard, an experienced long-distance runner, has joked about the no-big-deal endurance required to play two 45-minute albums in one evening.) Like “Give Up” and “Transatlanticism,” the road show was a hit, filling arenas and amphitheaters including Madison Square Garden and the Hollywood Bowl. Now the groups are set to take a victory lap with performances at Saturday’s Just Like Heaven festival in Pasadena.
For Gibbard, 47, the show marks a return to familiar ground: He formed the Postal Service with a pair of Angelenos: producer Jimmy Tamborello and singer Jenny Lewis of L.A.’s Rilo Kiley. “Transatlanticism,” meanwhile, describes a fling with a woman in Silver Lake and followed Death Cab’s 2001 “The Photo Album,” on which Gibbard asks someone why they’d want to live in a town that “smells like an airport runway.” (The frontman later moved to L.A. during his three-year marriage to actor Zooey Deschanel, whom he divorced in 2012.)
Gibbard talked to The Times about the albums — as well as the state of indie rock and his friendship with former Death Cab guitarist Chris Walla, who quit the band in 2014 — before a gig last week in Kansas City, where he’d just spent the day visiting the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and the American Jazz Museum. “There’s only so many Ernest movies you can watch on tour,” he said with a laugh of the cultural enrichment. “At a certain point you gotta up it a bit.”
Is the relationship you’re singing about in Death Cab’s “Tiny Vessels” — the girl in Silver Lake with the light brown streaks in her hair — the same relationship that had earlier inspired “Why You’d Want to Live Here”?
No. “Why You’d Want to Live Here” is kind of a stand-alone piece of fiction. And the mentions of Silver Lake on “Transatlanticism” are specific to a relationship that’s not really central to the album.
So why identify Silver Lake by name?
Well, “Transatlanticism” wasn’t conceived as a concept record — it wasn’t written about one person, despite the legend that’s kind of grown up around it. The songs span from like August 2001 to the spring of 2003, and there was a lot happening in my life at that point: I’d moved to Seattle to live with someone in my first real adult relationship, and then that person moved back to the East Coast and I was kind of floating for a year and a half through false starts of relationships — just feeling that general mid-20s malaise, trying to figure my s— out. But I’d rather allow people their fantasies than go song by song telling them they’re wrong.
Rolling Stone described “Transatlanticism” in 2003 as “11 indie lullabies … ostensibly about a long distance relationship.”
I think a lot of it has to do with Chris’ production. Because we’ve been playing the record in order with the transitions and everything, I’ve really been living with it for the first time in 20 years. And there’s this three-song sequence — “Tiny Vessels” into “Transatlanticism” into “Passenger Seat” — where Chris did such a brilliant job of sonically connecting them that it kind of gives the listener the impression that the subject matter is related to the same person or the same situation.
“Give Up” was framed with this idea that you and Jimmy were sending music back and forth through the mail. But how significant was the time you spent working on the album in L.A.?
Crucial. L.A.’s where I first met Jenny Lewis. I just emailed her out of the blue because Rilo Kiley was on [Death Cab’s label] Barsuk and I liked her voice. She picked me up at the Burbank airport and we got Mexican food and then went to Jimmy’s house and started making the record. It feels like the kind of thing that would never happen today. But in your 20s you’re like, “Something’s going on? I’ll do it. I don’t need to know if there’s parking.”
You sing about L.A. in a pretty negative way on Death Cab’s “Kintsugi,” which followed your divorce.
“Kintsugi” is not necessarily an indictment of L.A. — it’s an indictment of the entertainment industry that I’d found myself rubbing up against. Whereas my experience making “Give Up” with Jimmy and Jenny was hanging out with their friends and recognizing that there were a lot of really interesting creative people doing cool things in the underground that weren’t directly tied to Hollywood. Los Angeles has been a character in so much of my music because I’m both attracted and repulsed by it.
Zooey Deschanel and Ben Gibbard at the Los Angeles premiere of “(500) Days Of Summer” at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood in 2009.
(Gregg DeGuire / FilmMagic / Getty Images)
Where in town did you and your ex-wife live?
We lived initially in a duplex a couple blocks off La Brea — the Orthodox part of Hancock Park before it starts getting really fancy. Then we bought a house in the Cahuenga Pass, which looking back wasn’t somewhere I particularly liked living. As people do in relationships, I made a very hasty leap not only into that relationship but into a totally different city that I didn’t know. When I moved back to Seattle, kind of battered with my tail between my legs, I was like, “I’m never f—ing leaving this place ever again.”
Are there certain areas here that you avoid now?
There aren’t really. When we were rehearsing for this tour [in L.A.] last August, I went on a run one day and took this big loop through Hancock Park. My path went by our old place, and it was just: “Ah, I used to live there. Moving on.”
How big had “Give Up” become by the time “Transatlanticism” came out?
I don’t know how many copies it had sold but I think it was over 100 or 200,000. That was a fairly tense time because this little side project had completely outsold “The Photo Album” like three to four times over. I’m not sitting here 20 years later saying I wasn’t able to enjoy it as much I wanted to — nobody in Death Cab made me feel that way. But it was weird for the other guys: We’re going out on tour, and people are yelling Postal Service songs at us because at that point the Postal Service was bigger than Death Cab for Cutie.
In a sense that’s still true. The Postal Service is billed higher than Death Cab at Just Like Heaven.
As well it should be. It’s an issue of scarcity: When the Pixies came back after not playing a show for 10 or 15 years, they were playing venues way bigger than the places they played when they were actually a band. So of course the Postal Service is gonna headline the show. We sold 13,000 seats in Toronto a couple nights ago. The last time Death Cab played Toronto, we played Massey Hall, which is like 2,800 people. We all know what’s driving these tickets.
Nick Harmer, left, Chris Walla, Jason McGerr and Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie in 2008.
(Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times)
Has the strong reception made you think about what audiences are responding to?
Absolutely. Music is a time machine — more than any other art form, it has this ability to take us back to a time in our lives. I remember coming home from college and my dad was playing me some records. He played “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan,” and it got to “Girl From the North Country” and he had his hand over his face — I knew he was listening to this song, thinking about a woman that wasn’t my mom. That’s just what music does.
So when I had the idea to do this tour, I felt like we almost had an obligation to do it because of how much these two records mean to people. And because there’s not another artist or band or collection of people that could. I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way. If you can name another artist who had two records like this in the course of one calendar year, by all means tell me.
Even so, has the reaction surprised you?
It was the additional nights that were humbling: adding a second Hollywood Bowl, a third Hollywood Bowl, a second Madison Square Garden. I knew that people had relationships with these records, but I had no idea that this many people did.
This tour’s really changed me as far as how I move forward, not necessarily as a writer but as a performer. Before this tour, my performances were physical but kind of internal — I’m up there playing my guitar, I’m talking a bit, but I’ve never performed to the crowd. Now, for whatever reason — maybe because I’m standing next to Jenny Lewis, who’s one of the most amazing performers we have — it’s given me the confidence to look people in the eyes, to move toward the front of the stage rather than staying toward the back. A little less Stephen Malkmus, a little more Bono.
Jenny Lewis and Ben Gibbard perform with the Postal Service at Coachella in 2013.
(C Flanigan / FilmMagic / Getty Images)
At some point before the tour you got a real glow-up of a haircut.
I went to the woman who cuts my hair and said, “I’ve had bangs for 25 years — I gotta make a change.” But there might be something to not performing with a mess of hair in my face all the time. It’s nice when you have friends text you photos or Twitter posts saying nice things about how you look — certainly helps build your confidence.
Your voice in these shows is almost eerily unchanged from the records. It doesn’t sound like you’re having much trouble singing this old music.
I’ve been blessed with pretty good genetics. But I’ve spent the better part of the last 15 years being very cognizant of what I put in my body. Knock on wood that it remains so, but if you’re not smoking or drinking, and you’re physically fit, it’s actually easier now.
You ever worry that the boyishness of your voice will start to feel emotionally inappropriate for your age?
There’s the tone of the voice and then what the voice is singing, right? Playing songs you wrote when you were 21 or 22 when you’re 47 or 50 — there’s a lot of life between those ages. But I think as a concertgoer you just kind of know that’s the case. I saw the Cure last year — one of my top three bands of all time — and there’s Robert Smith singing “Boys Don’t Cry.” I think I’d feel more self-conscious about it if I wasn’t also writing songs from the perspective of a 47-year-old man.
As far as the tone goes, I’m a little cringey when I hear how boyish I sound on the old records. No one’s ever gonna consider my voice masculine, but it has a little bit of a patina on it now — a little bit grittier, a little more heft to it.
How would you describe your relationship with Chris Walla at the moment?
We just texted yesterday about Steve Albini. Chris and I had some rough patches after he left — he was very upset about some things I said specifically to you. And, you know, I stand by what I was trying to say, though I probably could have said it better. But he’s in Norway with his wife and a kid, and he’s making records and living the life he wants to live. His influence on my life, both as a human being and as a creative person, can’t be overstated. But sometimes what’s best for somebody you love is not necessarily for them to stay with you.
Was Albini important to you?
I think he was important to everybody in our world. But for Chris specifically, I remember he had this Shellac 7-inch where the insert was like their recording setup, with a drawing of every microphone and every compressor. The takeaway was: Get this stuff, and you can do this too. That was such an important message to receive, certainly for Chris — the idea that you don’t have to wait around for a major label to find you and put you in the studio. You can just start making recordings yourself. All of the schematics and photos that Albini was willingly putting out in the world, not caring whether anybody was gonna quote-unquote steal his sound — that was part of the DNA of our first few albums.
The era of those albums — the era this tour looks back on — was a fruitful one for white dudes writing indie rock songs. Two decades later, most of the energy in indie rock is with young women.
White male voices dominated rock ’n’ roll from the jump until, like, five years ago. We had a pretty good run [Laughs]. No one is sitting here saying, “I really want to know what a 25-year-old white guy has to say on this topic.” We already know! I think one of the wonderful things about the world we’re living in these days — and contrary to popular belief, there are some wonderful things — is that voices that maybe once were very much kept to the fringe are now finding an audience.
I’m gonna go off on this for a bit, if you don’t mind. Basically, in the early aughts, with the rise of indie rock, there were a lot of straight white men who were making music that was fine — not unique, not particularly interesting, but it was fine. And I’ve seen a number of people — my friends — who’ve kind of fallen on hard times. And while I feel bad for them, I’d rather live in a world where being a straight white guy is not enough. You actually have to be really f—ing talented.
I feel horrible saying this. But people don’t have to listen to you anymore. They can find something that speaks to them as a queer person or as a person of color. We’ve experienced this ourselves with putting out new records. We put out records and they don’t have the impact they once had for a number of reasons. But one of them, which is entirely justifiable, is that people have more options now. They don’t need my perspective on things.
With that in mind: Drake or Kendrick Lamar?
Oh, Kendrick all the way. You gotta be out of your damn mind to go toe to toe with that guy.
Movie Reviews
‘Supergirl’ Movie Review
So I took my Dad to go and see the new Supergirl movie – and we both loved it;
Kara Zor-El, aka Supergirl, joins forces with an unlikely companion on an interstellar journey of vengeance and justice when an unexpected adversary strikes too close to home.
And when we left the cinema, I broke the News to him that critics had absolutely panned it and predicted it was on its way to being a box office flop;
And my Dad joined me in being totally and utterly baffled by this response, and wondering if we’d just seen a totally different film to the seeming majority of reviewers!?
Oddly enough, a few reviewers banged the same drum asking if Supergirl had come out just as audiences were putting away childish things, like Superheroes;
To that last point; sure Scorsese hates superhero movies, but he also endorses the use of AI in filmmaking calling it “creatively freeing” – so I dunno, if a douche canoe declares superhero movies aren’t “real cinema” but seems totally fine letting broligarchy robots become filmmakers using stolen artwork, does anyone care? No. No we do not.
And mind you too – everyone is excited for the new Spider-Man: Brand New Day (including me, and my Dad) and not decrying it’s come out just as Superheroes are dying. So once again; this seems an odd argument to make.
And then lots also took the opinion that it missed the feminist mark;
I mean … sigh – there’s no real valid points to them, and when Coleman Spilde decries the “infantilisation” of Superigrl in one paragraph (WHAT?!) and then – with a straight-face – writes;
As always, I return to a perfect example: 2004’s “Catwoman.” That film was ingeniously enterprising, weird, stylish, sexy, and most importantly, totally singular. Moreover, it was entirely separate from the character’s source comics, with no mention of Batman to be found. Although “Catwoman” didn’t quite recoup its budget in theaters and was largely reviled among audiences and critics, it looks and feels a hell of a lot more thrilling 22 years on than anything DC Studios has cooked up in the time since.
I’m sorry but I can’t take you seriously. Sit down.
ALSO: the reviewers pointing to a slumped box office as proof that Supergirl is dud are being disingenuous, but few are willing to admit it;
Waner Bros. and DC’s “Supergirl” did the best of the newcomers on Friday, landing in second place with $18 million domestically from 3,602 theaters. Through the weekend, it should collect about $50 million. For context, James Gunn’s “Superman,” which cost $225 million, debuted to $125 million last summer and ended its run with $618 million. “Supergirl” was a bit cheaper to produce at $170 million, but will still need to stick around in theaters to justify the pricetag.
So here’s the truth; Supergirl has a fairly gritty storyline – we follow newcomer, young girl Ruth (Eve Ridley) who witnesses the murder of her parents and sibling at the hands of patriarchal space pirates – the Brigands – and specifically their leader Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) who struck the killing blows against her kin. Her father was a master sword-maker, so when Ruth is the only one left alive she vows to take her father’s last remaining sword and use it to seek vengeance and kill Krem. She goes seeking a champion to help her in this goal.
But what Ruth stumbles across in the Red Sun galaxy is a bar-hopping Supergirl (played brilliantly by Aussie Milly Alcock) – who is seeking the neutralisation of the red sun to allow her to exist in a boozey state of forgetting … she has her canine companion Crypto, her cousin Kal-El back on the rejuvenating yellow-sunned earth (who she is avoiding) but not much else until Ruth and her problems stumble into her life.
When Crypto’s life is endangered by one and the same Krem, Supergirl reluctantly joins the fight – and along the way discovers that the Brigands trade in kidnapped girls from across the galaxy, to continue populating their all-male line.
Ah.
Suddenly the throughly disinterested Supergirl is drawn into a Shakespearean web of Ruth’s revenge plot, her own desperate three-day bid to save Crypto, and breaking up an inter-galactic slave trade smuggling ring.
It’s definitely got darkness at its centre. And decent enough story-echoes to two more films from established franchises that put female leads front-and-centre in their new outings, and saw great success. Namely; Rogue One which has the avenge-my-family subplot similar to Ruth’s, and Mad Max; Fury Road for the rescued brides of pirate psychopaths plot.
Along the way Supergirl and Ruth bump into Lobo (Jason Momoa) who is seeking his own bounty from one of the heads of the Brigands. He’s not so interested in helping Ruth and Supergirl in their loftier ambitions, but proves a useful hammer when their fights align;
Overall I found the plot to be quite moving and decently big enough in scope. It’s hard to watch and not see connections to the here and now – that no matter the planet or galaxy, women and girls are traded and abused at the hands of men;
Why shouldn’t Supergirl but a version of this story front and centre?
James Gunn’s 2025 Superman raised similar lines of enquiry about the echoes to modern conflicts to be found in its fiction;
That last one undoubtedly hits closest to the truth – but it’s still an interesting practice on how Art is Indeed Political, and amazingly when you give audiences colonial war-mongers as villains they’re going to see parallels to real-world apartheid and genocidal states, whether studios wanted them to or not.
I am not the biggest Superman fan, truth be told. But I did really enjoy David Corenswet’s 2025 take (and far more than all of the Zack Snyder’s poorly written nonsense … I mean; MARTHA!! – really? Dud).
Superman has always been a little too cheery and optimistic for me. I far more gravitate to Batman (millionaire he may be, eat them!) and Chris Nolan’s films remain the definitive superhero franchise for me – especially because they lean into violence and a more Jekyll-Hyde struggle.
I am probably also more of a Marvel gal (X-Men and Kitty Pryde being my definitive favourites of all time!) and again – I think there’s more complexity and shades of light and dark to be found there, that I am more drawn to. I am a millennial child raised on the X-Men cartoon and The Dark Phoenix Saga in particular, really shaped my comic-book/superhero arc outlook.
So I was pleasantly surprised to find more grit and dark in this 2026 Supergirl, and new dimensions to the character whom I’d last encountered in the squeakier CW universe (which only tangentially touched on domestic violence against women, when its star –Melissa Benoist – admitted to her own experiences in an abusive relationship, with a fellow actor on the CW show).
Superman is a tale of immigration, and always has been – Superman is a refugee;
Critically though; Superman migrated to America and found asylum with the Kent family, as a baby. He has little to no memory of Krypton, only the acquired memories of his parent’s imperfect messages in his Fortress of Solitude.
Supergirl is not the same – as she explains in the film; “Krypton did not die in a day, the Gods are not that kind.” She was born eight years after Krypton’s core could not sustain the planet anymore. Her uncle and Kal-El’s father sent Superman away immediately as the planet started to disintegrate, but Supergirl’s own father was instrumental in creating a forcefield around the city to sustain it while the rest of the planet fell away. Supergirl was born in a domed and doomed piece of the Krypton planet, and it was only in her teenage years when her father admitted this bandaid-on-a-bullet-wound was unsustainable, that he sent her away to Earth, to follow her cousin to safety and a new life. In this, there’s of course allusions to climate catastrophe that any viewer can – and should – relate to, living on a similarly dying planet.
Supergirl did not want to leave though, because that dying planet was all she had ever known. It was home. Imperfect as it was.
She is the embodiment of a different refugee and migration story. She is closer to the Warsan Shire poem;
you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
That’s Supergirl’s experience.
She does not integrate into Earth as seamlessly as Kal-El. She is not the perfect refugee, desperate to assimilate.
How interesting, that we’re having these ridiculous conversations in Australian politics – prompted by that feckless and cruel bootlicker, Pauline Hanson – about migrants assimilating. A deadening and dulling of their culture to a ‘mono’ smooth-brained nothingness of acquiescence to an ill-defined “Australian” identity.
I found Supergirl’s struggles refreshing, in this light. She is not the perfect immigrant – there is no such thing. She struggles with Superman’s goodness and wholesome Kansas-boy persona, his Clark Kent assimilation that she cannot relate to or emulate. She carries the death and destruction she witnessed on Krypton with her, the grief for what she left behind – all that she had ever known. It has shaped her in a way that Superman wasn’t similarly moulded, and so she feels alone and lonely. One of two surviving Kryptonians and one of them has no memory of what they even survived.
This is fascinating to me, and brilliantly wrought in the film.
Especially for how Supergirl sees in Ruth a similar yearning for a place that no longer exists, and she can never go back to … a place before her family was murdered. Ruth is hellbent on vengeance to try and cure her of her grief, but Supergirl knows all too well that nothing can change the past.
I loved it.
My Dad loved it.
Milly Alcock was brilliant – snarky and ragged, but a girl willing to go to great lengths for her dog (hard relate).
Maybe the character of Krem was rendered in costume and design a little too Mad Max, and lost some of the comic-book commentary around him just being an ordinary-looking guy bordering on dastardly dashing pirate; maybe keeping him looking so norm-core would’ve added to commentary on bad men looking completely ordinary as opposed to the villainous ball-bearings-embedded-in-his-forehead version of the film? But I’m honestly not that mad at it.
I thought it was suitably dark in places, funny in others, with tough but necassary commentary on the safety of women in every galaxy. A film for young girls to come to and appreciate, but equally millennial me and my younger boomer dad also got a lot out of it.
5/5, frankly – and now I am keen for a Superman and Supergirl pair-up movie, as these two refugees swap light and dark and learn to live in the imperfect complexity of their migrant stories.
Entertainment
After Amazon drops OpenAI movie ‘Artificial,’ film finds new home at Neon
A Hollywood portrayal of OpenAI Chief Executive Sam Altman portrayed by actor Andrew Garfield will be released later this year, after Amazon MGM Studios dropped the movie.
“Artificial,” which chronicles Altman‘s 2023 ouster from OpenAI and his reinstatement as CEO, was acquired by Neon, the studio announced Tuesday.
“The acquisition underscores Neon’s commitment to partnering with visionary filmmakers, and bringing ambitious cinema to audiences around the world,” the studio said in a statement. “Artificial will compete in this year’s Oscar race.”
The film has a critical take on artificial intelligence, according to three sources briefed on it who declined to be named. That portrayal caused Amazon to want to distance itself from the film, given the company’s $50 billion investment in OpenAI, two of the sources said.
Amazon declined to comment on the claims. In a statement, the company said it has “the utmost respect and admiration” for the movie’s director Luca Guadagnino. “We believe that ‘Artificial’ will be better served if it were released by a different studio and are working closely with the filmmaking team to find the film a new home,” Amazon said.
The deal was negotiated by Neon, CAA Media Finance and Amazon. CAA and Amazon declined to comment. A Neon spokesperson did not immediately respond to questions regarding the financial terms of the deal.
Puck News first reported Amazon dropping the movie.
Other studios, including Netflix, A24 and Focus Features, screened “Artificial.” Netflix and Focus passed on the film.
Amazon’s decision to drop the film comes at a time when Hollywood is grappling with the growth of artificial intelligence. Some creatives are concerned that the technology could displace jobs; others worry that their likenesses are being used to train AI models without their permission or compensation.
Meanwhile, many AI companies are eager to work with studios, saying their AI tools can help speed processes and reduce costs.
To foster more nuanced discussions about artificial intelligence, Google is collaborating with talent management firm Range Media Partners to develop films that present a less dystopian view of the technology.
Amazon passing on the film raises questions about whether tech company-backed studios would be willing to release movies that are critical of innovations in which they have a stake. It could create a chilling effect, said Robert Thompson, director of Syracuse University’s Bleier Center for Television and Popular Culture.
“The chilling effect could not only be on films critical of AI, they could be on films critical of all kinds of things that these companies have their tentacles in,” Thompson said.
Stories about tech company founders can be attractive to audiences, most notably with the 2010 film “The Social Network” about the founding of Facebook. That film earned $225 million worldwide at the box office, according to Paul Dergarabedian, head of marketplace trends at Rentrak. “The Social Network” came out a time when many people were talking about Facebook and had big talent behind it, including director David Fincher, Dergarabedian said.
“Neon is a perfect custodian for this film, and they will shepherd it to the big screen, I think very effectively,” he said. “They’re very filmmaker-centric … I think they found the perfect home with Neon.”
“Artificial” features major talent, with actor Monica Barbaro portraying former OpenAI Chief Technology Officer Mira Murati, and Ike Barinholtz as Elon Musk. Other actors include Jason Schwartzman and Billie Lourd.
Director Guadagnino has worked on films including “Challengers” and “Call Me By Your Name.”
Staff writer Samantha Masunaga contributed to this report.
Movie Reviews
Young Washington (Christian Movie Review) – The Collision
While a bit hollow as a character study, painting with broad thematic brushstrokes that often keep its hero at a distance, Young Washington is a compelling historical drama, with a grandiose scope that is rare in Hollywood, and an inspirational story befitting of America at its best.
About the Film
It’s trendy for Hollywood to disparage the United States with films that highlight how the country has fallen short of its lofty ideals (and the beauty of American liberty is that such critical self-reflection is possible). Last year’s One Battle After Another was the darling of the Academy Awards with such a tale. But this Independence Day, and in celebration of 250 years as a nation, audiences can be reminded that (like the men who founded it) America may be imperfect, but the American spirit is a noble and beautiful thing worth fighting for. Young Washington is the origin story, not just of one of those brave Founding Fathers, but of the patriotic spirit and noble values they inspired. While a bit hollow as a character study, painting with broad thematic brushstrokes that often keep its hero at a distance, Young Washington is a compelling historical drama, with a grandiose scope that is rare in Hollywood, and an inspirational story befitting of America at its best.
Director Jon Erwin (House of David, I Can Only Imagine) again proves to be one of the best all-around storytelling talents in Hollywood right now, faith-based or otherwise. Produced and distributed by Angel and Wonder Project, the film is among the most ambitious projects to emerge from the new wave of faith-based entertainment, even if Young Washington isn’t explicitly “faith-based” in a rigid sense. When I interviewed screenwriter Diederik Hoogstraten, he aptly referred to the storytelling approach as “values based.” It may not be a gospel-preaching cinematic tract (and it’s the better for it), but Christians will find plenty to affirm and celebrate here.
If we do count the film among the “faith-based” genre family, then it’s easily a peak achievement. It’s a visually beautiful and well-crafted film. For as good as the modern faith-based genre has become, few movies have warranted a theatrical viewing, being built more on wholesome narrative than visual spectacle. In contrast, seeing Washington gallop on a horse as cannon fire and the pandemonium of battle rages all around him is a full-blown cinematic experience that has rarely been achieved in the genre – other than perhaps Erwin’s own The House of David.
Young Washington is solid from start to finish, but it never fully soars. The film is more interesting than engrossing; good in most areas, but never quite great at any one of them. The clearest comparable, due to the subject matter, is perhaps Mel Gibson’s The Patriot (2000). Historical inaccuracies aside, that film packed a cinematic punch of action, spectacle, and emotional storytelling. Young Washington offers the first two but lacks the third. It’s a story that appeals more to the head than the heart, historically informative, but not making me feel much toward the story.

The creative decision to focus the story on a limited, formulative period of Washington’s early life shapes the film in significant ways. Many biopics fall into the trap of dutifully checking boxes, adapting a Wikipedia page more than unfolding a character journey. There’s still some of that with Young Washington, but the limited parameters lend the film a greater sense of focus and an opportunity to breathe. It feels like a story about something more than just putting historical events onto the movie screen.
At the same time, the film also feels like “part one” of a larger story, or a prequel for a film that doesn’t yet exist. The story seems constantly building toward something but then ends on the cusp of reaching it. Perhaps a future sequel is in the cards (although Middle Aged Washington doesn’t have the same ring to it), but the climactic pay off feels lacking. Interestingly, while the movie remains largely historically accurate (as far I can tell), the climactic final battle is more positively framed as a sort of inspirational victory, even when the historical battle was a crushing defeat. It’s perhaps an attempt to manufacture a thrilling third act resolution for a historical figure who was still only in the “first act” of his life. The decision mostly works, and that final battle is the film’s greatest triumph, but the story overall, as told, feels incomplete.

Also notable is that despite the intentionally patriotic release date, and centering on George Washington—arguably the American hero—the “Young” part of the film’s title means that the story pre-dates the revolutionary war. It sees Washington spend the duration of the runtime as a proud officer in the British army. Not quite the patriotic celebration the marketing has promised. Beyond existing knowledge of the historical significance of the protagonist, there is no real “America” at all, beyond a focus on his Virginian regiment, and some hints at the “American Spirit” that would one day define the nation (see themes below).
The fact that it has taken until the end of this review to discuss the character of George Washington himself is also telling. Unfortunately, he is the least interesting part of the film. The fault is not with actor William Franklyn-Miller, who does an admirable job. The problem is with the characterization. Washington has understandable motivations and inner conflict, but they are approached more from the perspective of an outside observer, rather than getting into his own headspace (we are told about struggles but rarely feel his turmoil). The film doesn’t probe deep enough into the root causes of these struggles, or the causes of his insecurity and drive for greatness. I left the film having learned about the events his early life, but without a better understanding of him as a man.
In the end, Young Washington boasts enough entertainment and quality filmmaking to please audiences. It’s a high floor, low ceiling type of film. There are no moments where the film fails to deliver consistent quality, but it just never seems able to achieve anything more. It’s good, but not great, which is something rarely said of George Washington himself. Still, I enjoyed it, and in retrospect, its legacy may be more for how it paved the way for the genre to enter a brighter future. Come to think of it, that sounds befitting of George Washington after all.
On the Surface
For Consideration
On the Surface—(Profanity, Sexual content, violence, etc.).
Language: There are three minor profanities (“d—” x2, “b—ard” x1).
Violence: There is plenty of wartime action, including men shot with rifles and cannon fire, although the action remains relatively bloodless. The most extreme violence comes when a man is hacked with an axe, although it is more implied than depicted on screen.
Sexuality: None.
Beneath The Surface
Engage The Film
The Makings of a Leader
George Washington was a larger-than-life person. By the end of the film, he is depicted as a near mythic figure (although, the scenes are adapted from details provided by several Pulitzer Prize winning biographies, so sometimes real life really is a Hollywood story). But one of the film’s central ambitions, and one emphasized in my interview with the screenwriter, is to humanize that mythical figure.

Early in the film, he is not necessarily even very likeable at times. He is stubborn, and his deep insecurities manifest as the appearance of pride and arrogance. His poor choices and refusal to heed wise counsel, such as the defeat at Fort Necessity, lead to serious consequences. Many biopics are hagiographical (such as the recent Michael), but Young Washington demonstrates the biblical truth that all men have sinned and fallen short of God’s standard (Romans 3:23). It answers the age-old question by suggesting that great leaders are not born great, they must become great.
In an early scene, George and his mother argue about their unfavorable circumstances. George’s mother wishes for her deceased husband back, but says, “Providence denied me this.” George responds, “Then providence is cruel!” His mother eventually counters, “God raises what is well grounded.” That exchange represents the heart of the film. We cannot control our circumstances, but we can shape our character (and allow God to shape it) to respond to them. As one character says, “Failure is the tutor sent by God.” Washington lacks the status and social advantages of others, and at first, he attempts to take it into his own hands to rise to prominence. Ultimately, after great failure, he learns that it is through humility and service that he can be used to do great deeds (Matthew 20:16). Interestingly, at the end of the film, even the pagan Indian tribes recognize God’s anointing on Washington’s life.
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