The Queue-rious Nature of Queues

'I don't care if we're eighty years early, we are getting those
One Direction tickets!'

There has been a vicious rumour circulating about us Brits that needs correcting right now. No, I am not talking about the bad teeth, bumbling speech or general propensity to be evil attributed to us by American TV. Let’s get one thing straight: Britons do not like queuing.

No sane person likes queuing. Whether it’s in a shop, on the road or at a theme park, queues, like rain and taxes, are perceived by Brits as an inevitable part of life, but not as a joy. It is probably this acceptance that makes others think we enjoy waiting in line. While people from other countries might refuse to adhere to such a system, we are willing to go along with it, we’ll just grumble and moan in the process.

If we're not careful, queues can becomes unpleasant reflections of one’s life, as the unending state of limbo stretches into a metaphor for existence. Neither in one place or the next, stuck waiting to fulfill our true purpose, we watch the people around us also striving for the same goal, reaching it before us or following in our footsteps, everyone silently agreeing to conform to this system that takes a chunk of our life in exchange for achieving a particular end.

Once you have entered The Queue, your concept of time changes. Restricted by your status as part of The Queue, you are no longer free to choose what to do with your time. You forget what it was like to not be in this queue, and you suddenly find yourself unable to imagine that a time exists beyond it, that one day you will not be standing here, waiting for that person to count out every single penny in circulation, or for the engineer to fix the rollercoaster. For the first time, you are forced to obey Yoda and countless self-help gurus, and to live in the moment. Unfortunately, the moment you are trapped in is one of frustration, doubt and boredom.

The Queue also screws with your concept of space. You may well have walked through or past the place where you are now queuing countless times, unheeded by the system you have suddenly signed on to, able to stroll nonchalantly about in a wild and innocent fashion. You may even have skipped a little. Now, however, you are blocked in, unable to move too far to either side for fear of losing your place and forfeiting your contract, while a few measly steps forward are now perceived as a victory. You look back wistfully on those blissful times of meandering lazily along, unstructured and unbound, and wonder how you could have taken that freedom to stride so boldly for granted.

At this point, you begin to make bargains. You will never take your spare time for granted again. You will spend every minute doing useful, important, adrenalin-pumping activities and carpeing the diem.  You will learn a language, go skydiving, hug a tree – all the things that you thought you would have time to do but never did, because before The Queue there was always the future. You will never neglect the freedom to move around at will again. You will roam freely about the earth, noting every individual step as a sign that you have the agency to control your own path, and the chance to follow it. Once The Queue has freed you, you will grab life with both hands and never spend another minute in such a limp, helpless state.

And then the customer before you takes their bags, the car ahead moves off, the theme park worker ushers you on to the rollercoaster, and all those lessons, all those promises, vanish into thin air. You have made it. You have completed your contract with the queue, sacrificed minutes or hours of your life and promised to be there, in that place rather than anywhere else, and you have been duly rewarded. Life goes on, The Queue is forgotten, and you forget what it was to be so restricted, and return to your routine.

Three perks of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Despite being set in a ‘90s American high school and featuring Paul Rudd as an English teacher, the similarities between Perks and all typical teenage comedies end there. Adapted by writer Stephen Chbosky from his own novel, this film follows troubled sixteen-year-old Charlie as he enters his freshman year of high school. Complete with shots of Emma Watson in a corset and lines such as 'Welcome to the island of misfit toys', the trailer really undersells this sincere and moving portrayal of friendship as a kind of hipster dramedy. There are far more sombre themes at play here than a bit of teenage angst, and they are mediated through a moving and funny script that brushes aside all preconceptions and goes right for the heartstrings.

Ezra Miller, Logan Lerman and Emma Watson

While each deserves their own place on this list, I’ve uncharitably decided to lump these three stars together into a Megazord of talent. Anyone who cringed through Watson’s wooden Harry Potter years will be left gobsmacked by her intelligent portrayal of flawed but kind-hearted Sam. In fairness, there is more depth to this character than there was to Hermione, not to mention better clothes and an edgy new haircut, but rather than flounder with a complex and entirely different character, Watson rises to this new challenge.

Another star who managed to escape typecasting is Ezra Miller, who earned rave reviews as the eponymous teen in dark drama We Need to Talk About Kevin. Miller steals every scene as outgoing Patrick in a sensitive performance that flits between mischievous humour and raw emotion. This subtle but powerful handling of intense subject matter is also seen in Lerman, who makes Charlie seem endearing and naive as he negotiates the tricky world of high school along with darker problems. In Lerman’s capable hands, Charlie’s wide-eyed revelation that ‘We are infinite’ comes across not as shallow, meaningless drivel, but as a poignant moment of clarity in the muddled life of this lonely teenager. What could have been a tacky and superficial tale of teenage angst rings true through thanks to the intelligent performances of the three leads.

It’s all about the music

Although the film is set in the '90s, Sam and Charlie’s love of old songs means the soundtrack draws frequently on the music of earlier decades, including The Smiths, David Bowie and Dexys Midnight Runners. One of the highlights of the film sees Charlie, Sam and Patrick discover Bowie’s ‘Heroes’ for the first time: the tentative yet defiant positivity of the song perfectly captures the heady mix of fear and courage that defines teenage years. Not only do the songs compliment the ups and downs in the narrative, but the importance of music also leads to many moments of fond nostalgia for those of us who remember the hazy days of cassettes and making mix tapes with hand-written labels. Of course, I was listening to Liberty X and audio books at the time (Sophie’s Snail does not make an appearance here), and you never see anyone having to wind the film back in, but this little reminder of nineties tech puts Perks firmly in one era, reminding us of the ethereal nature of our teenage years.

It makes The Breakfast Club look like Mean Girls

It may be set in high school, but much of the subject matter here is far from juvenile. While Charlie experiences typical teenage problems, such as romantic entanglements, drug experimentation and some highly witty name-calling, Perks also addresses depression, suicide, domestic violence, homophobia, and child abuse. Far from shoving these themes down the audience’s throat, the film posits them as aspects of characters’ lives, but not their defining feature. As a result, while each character faces personal demons, they are relatable beyond these as realistic people. These issues are not used for their shock-factor but to explain the flaws of the characters, and the film is more moving for it.

If you're looking for a film that evokes the silliness of teenage years through screwball comedy and vaguely detestable characters, look elsewhere. Perks may look like a shallow, angst-ridden and moody hipster flick, but strong performances and a clever script, along with some well-chosen music, make this a moving and poignant reminder of the perks and pitfalls of being a teenager.