Oliver Tate, the protagonist of “Submarine,” might be a low-grade psychopath. He might also be a distant foreign cousin of Max Fischer from “Rushmore,” a future member of a Smiths cover band, or, more likely, just a bored and melodramatic teenager stuck in small-town Wales. Set in the taupe and blue-grays of 1970s Britain, Richard Ayoade’s first feature film is a stylish, lo-fi study of quirky teen melancholia as narrated by Oliver, a precocious 15-year old whose primary ambitions are to lose his virginity and save his parents’ marriage. Neither goal presents much of a problem, but for a movie billed as a sexual coming-of-age story, sex — or at least, romance — takes a back seat to exploring the interior life of Ayoade’s self-absorbed anti-hero.
The opening scene of “Submarine” catches Oliver, played by Craig Roberts, fantasizing about what would happen if he were to die. His imagination takes him through a tour of candlelight vigils, national TV coverage and press conferences before his final resurrection in a high-school hallway. (“Don’t ask how,” he whispers to classmates, raising an ethereal hood.) Prior to “Submarine,” Ayoade was known for directing music videos, and the movie does not hide its aesthetic debts to rock videos and Wes Anderson movies. Clever one-liners are used to full effect — “I found a book about teenage paranoid delusions in a routine search of my parents’ bedroom,” Oliver quips — but Ayoade’s bleakly comic look at adolescent narcissism thankfully leaves out the awkward sentimentality that usually attends it.
Ayoade’s dark humor rings in the title of the film, an adaptation of Joe Dunthorne’s 2008 novel, which references being underwater as a metaphor for depression. “The ocean is 6 miles deep,” Oliver’s father (Noah Taylor), a resigned marine biologist with a mountain-man beard, tells his son; and his own marriage seems to permanently reside at the bottom of this ocean. When a New Age guru bearing a strong resemblance to Nick Cave moves in next door, Oliver becomes obsessed with keeping the neighbor away from his mother and reigniting his parents’ relationship. He monitors their sex life via a bedroom dimmer switch, sends love letters on behalf of his father, and has overly candid conversations with his mother about her physical attractiveness.
Oliver’s own love life falls into place when he wins over Jordana Bevin (Yasmin Paige), a deadpan classmate whose interests include pyromania, casual psychological manipulation and firetruck-red coats. Their romance begins when she scatters Polaroids of them kissing around school; Oliver seals the relationship by refusing to insult her while her ex-boyfriend beats him in front of a crowd. A relationship montage scene scrolls through them setting various items on fire (including Jordana’s dead dog) and ends with stifled conversation and awkward advances. Oliver loses his virginity within the first hour of the movie and spends the second hour ignoring her while declaring himself the best boyfriend in the world.
Though sometimes precious, “Submarine” successfully charts the territory between teenage fantasy and reality, and captures the despondency that comes with the age. In this vein, Oliver relies on film clichés to navigate his first relationship. “This is the moment where you leave him and come with me,” Oliver tells Jordan as he tries to win her back. “Are you coming?” She’s not, but soon after, he spots a woman in red alone on a beach and assumes it can’t possibly be her — that would be far too cinematic. Yet it is, and Ayoade leaves viewers remembering that the best parts of adolescence are the rare moments when it lives up to the movies.