"Morris from America" centers on the title character (newcomer Markees Christmas) and his single dad, Chris (Craig Robinson) as they try to stick together in the isolating terrain of Heidelberg. They find a comfortable routine—getting ice cream, arguing over hip-hop, ignoring the weighty memory of Morris’ dead mother that hovers at the margins of their lives. But their strong relationship isn’t enough to fully satisfy their desire for connection and community. It’s here that the film truly finds its most interesting ground by touching on how loneliness shapes us.
“I don’t need any friends,” Morris says early on.
“Everyone needs friends,” his language tutor Inka (Carla Juri) assures.
Morris doesn’t have many options when it comes to friends and his time at a local youth center only makes that more clear. Morris and the kids around him are a study in contrasts. They’re thin blondes and redheads with none of his earnestness. They throw insulting nicknames at him like “Big Mac” and “Kobe Bryant” to remind him of his place in their world. He’s a dark-skinned, chubby, hip-hop head. But he ends up finding the closest thing to friendship in the 15-year old Katrin (Lina Keller), a winsome girl feigning womanhood through the usual mix of teenage rebellion.
"Morris from America" nails how even minor age differences in adolescence feel like lifetimes. Even before her motorcycle-riding, DJ boyfriend hits the scene, it’s clear Morris doesn’t have a chance and Katrin is just teasing him. But that just emboldens him more. There’s an easygoing charm to watching their friendship develop. Christmas and Keller have a chemistry that feels authentic to the sort of unrequited crush between them. But Katrin isn’t solace from the racism Morris faces elsewhere; if anything, she pushes it to the surface. She’s a bit too curious about his blackness asking about his love of rap, if black people can dance, and his “big black dick” in a particularly cringe worthy scene. Christmas’ performance elevates moments like these as he displays a mix of confusion, desire and embarrassment. He finds notes that the script and direction seem to bypass—calling attention to how the character’s loneliness and disconnect from the culture around him leads him to find weak approximations of what he’s truly yearning for. Although sometimes not even he can fix a rather misguided scene involving a pillow, Katrin’s sweater, and an explicit Miguel song.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7s7vGnqmempWnwW%2BvzqZmq52mnrK4v46mpquqmah6p77OpmSapZWntqStjGtnam4%3D