American comedian Caleb Hearon’s made his mark as a content creator, amassing fans across social media and through his podcast So True with Caleb Hearon. Earlier this year, he appeared in three films in supporting turns, ranging from the stoner-comedy Pizza Movie, to the critically heralded The Devil Wears Prada 2, to the Netflix offering Little Brother. But with Trash Mountain, Hearon is penning his next chapter as leading man.
Written by Hearon and Ruby Caster, Trash Mountain is as funny as you might expect, if not funnier. But the real surprise is how truly touching this comedy with a snarky Hearon as its leading man is. Brace yourself, because Hearon is going to make you cry.
What’s Caleb Hearon’s Trash Mountain about?
Credit: TIFF
Directed by Kris Rey, this comedy begins with Hearon in his comfort zone, performing stand-up at a drag club before kiki-ing with colorful queens backstage. In an efficient and effusive opening sequence, Trash Mountain establishes Gavin (Hearon) as living it up in Chicago with a solid set of squirrel friends. But then he gets a call from his sister Abbi (Zooey Deschanel) that their dad has died.
Just like that, Gavin is back in the rural Missouri town where he grew up. Sleeping on his young nephew’s bed, he wakes up to the sound of LEGOS clattering in play. He’s bossed about by his religious grandmother (Jacki Weaver) and grudgingly helps Abbi sort out their father’s home, which is stacked floor to ceiling with stuff, stuff, stuff. It’s not just a matter of cleaning house, but locating their dead dad’s lost Social Security card for some bureaucratic red tape related to his estate. But — as a sage named Trish offers, finding something so small in so much mess is like “looking for a virgin in a whore house.” (Trash Mountain exudes small-town color.)
Uninterested in revisiting his past or connecting to his grief, Gavin is constantly cracking jokes and hits up Grindr for some easy fun. But working through his dad’s stuff brings up feelings even Gavin can’t laugh off. And his one night-stand named Jerome (Jaboukie Young-White) begins to blossom into something more.
Caleb Hearon is a damn star, but the whole ensemble is sensational.
Through the stand-up intro, Trash Mountain smartly starts with a version of Hearon his fans know well, smart, snarky, and gay. But as soon as Gavin hits Missouri, the story turns fish-out-of-water. Hearon’s performance becomes more layered as Gavin, on the surface, presents as an unflappable smartass. Deschanel proves a surprisingly terrific partner, dropping her bubbly New Girl persona for an irreverent humor that matches Hearon’s. She also proves adorable with her onscreen husband (a charming Kyle Marvin) without getting treacly. But she and Hearon share an easy intimacy and comedic timing that make them terrifically convincing as siblings, especially as they one-up each other with increasingly acerbic jokes as their grandmother looks on in horror.
Props to Weaver, who expertly takes on the role of the hysterical, pushy matriarch. When the siblings run from their heartache with humor, it’s grandma’s earnest cries for compassion that shake them out of their irreverent reverie.
In those moments, Deschanel is terrific, trembling on a throbbing vulnerability. But Hearon is the surprise, revealing his range. He strides out of quick-witted reads and into fury, hurt, and ultimately grief. With a beguiling Young-White, he shares an electric chemistry. But watching Hearon’s familiar and effective schtick be stripped away for a grounded and earnestly emotional climax was so striking that I cried through the final act, and more afterward.
Trash Mountain is primed to be a queer cinema landmark.
Executive produced by Lilly Wachowski, Trash Mountain will speak to plenty of folks, particularly American queers who grew up in conservative hometowns. (It’s me!)
Through Gavin’s story, Hearon and Caster capture a familiar narrative for LGBTQ people. Growing up in a small town where homophobia thrived, Gavin left for a big city, where he built a life and community. There, he could be himself with the relentless gawking or judgment of a too-small town. But coming home again is like being shoved into a box you were never going to fit into. The Big City Gay coming back home might not be openly harassed, but may be treated as a novelty, subject of awkward conversations with an old classmate at Wal-Mart, or with strangers who aim to be friendly and end up being a bother.
Gavin chafes at the expectations of a town he gladly left in his rearview, yet yearns to reconnect with his surviving family. But his low-key disdain for his hometown is an obstacle there. Yet Trash Mountain won’t dismiss the town in the same way its hero has. Rey recognizes the political context of the place with a pick-up truck driving by with a Confederate flag, a “don’t tread on me” flag, and a “Trump 2020” bumper sticker for good measure. However, by contrast, there’s Jerome, an openly gay man from Seattle who loves this town. There’s Trish, who’s gruff, direct, and kind in a combination that feels deeply Americana. And there’s loving shots of the scenery, be it a rolling plain or a lively dive bar. This is a place that’s wonderful and flawed all at once.
This complex portrait of Gavin’s hometown reflects how he feels about his father, who was, by all accounts, an alcoholic, a hoarder, and a loner. All those labels might urge Gavin and Abbi to try to box up their grief like so many forgotten magazines of “floppy disk porn.” But ultimately, as they plan a funeral for their dad, they recognize all of the good and the bad to say goodbye. Even now, thinking of the quirk and tenderness of Trash Mountain‘s final scene, I tear up.
Finely tuned, Trash Mountain is an uproarously funny comedy about coming home again, and a tender drama about the grief of not just losing a parent, but also the challenge of accepting them as they are. Within all this, Hearon and company made a film that is not just terrifically entertaining and cathartically tear-jerking, but also a showcase for its leading man.
Cheers to Hearon. I can’t wait to see what he headlines next.
Trash Mountain was reviewed out of the Toronto International Film Festival.
