Libery Heights (1999)

Ben Foster and Rebekah Johnson share a walk

I adore “Liberty Heights.” Films like this one, Beautiful Girls, Nobody’s Fool, Swingers and the Brother’s McMullen where, regardless of what happens to its characters, no matter how dire their circumstances, we (and they) know deep down that everything will ultimately work out OK in the end. In these are the kinds of pictures, the characters seem not only to like, but also genuinely care about (and for), one another. I find these films at once profoundly comforting, and tremendously hopeful. I want to watch them over and over. They make me smile.

I’ve seen “Liberty Heights” countless times. It’s the kind of movie that, when I flip by it on cable, regardless of how far along it happens to be, I’ll watch from that point to the end, regardless of my mood.  

You’d think that would make reviewing “Liberty Heights” a breeze. It’s not. I’m so familiar with it, I usually talk about in the ways you might talk to one close relative about another. I use shorthand, expecting those with whom I’m talking to be familiar with it in the same ways, and to the same degree, that I am. I have to remind myself that that may not always be the case.

“Liberty Heights” takes place in 1950s Baltimore. It’s a very different, seemingly much safer world. One filled with humongous, pastel-colored American cars with enormous tailfins, early rock-and-roll, sock hops, and unlocked front doors. Before video games, the internet and mobile phones. However, this world isn’t innocent and gentle as it appears. It has a very recent history of segregation, both legal and social. A sign at the local swimming hole blares “No coloreds, Jews or dogs.”

The film focuses primarily on a group of high-school kids, each one going through some stage of adolescent transformation.

Ben Kurtzman (Ben Foster), the younger of two brothers, is smart, curious, funny and likeable. He lives in a predominately-Jewish neighborhood of Forest Park, where milk, white bread, and “luncheon meat” might as well be from Mars. He’s old enough to know he shouldn’t wear an inappropriate Halloween costume outside the house, but young and rebellious enough to want to, anyway.

Van (Adrien Brody), is Ben’s older, wiser, far-cooler brother. He knows that their father’s (Nate, played by Joe Mantegna) struggling burlesque theater is little more than a front for an illegal numbers racket. However, he also recognizes that his dad is, at heart, a good man, and that there are shades of criminal gray.

Integration is a new experiment. Suddenly instead of everyone in homeroom being named Coen or Blum, there’s now Sylvia (Rebekah Johnson), a bright-faced African-American girl, about whom Ben and his friends Sheldon (Evan Neumann) and Murray (Gerry Rosenthal) love to talk and fantasize. Sylvia is smarter and more mature than her male classmates. While the rest of the class recites the 23^rd Psalm rote, she actually considers what the words mean. She’s polite, respectful, articulate, and more insightful than most girls her age.

There are several other characters along the way, such as the defensive, constantly-agitated classmate Yussel (David Krumholtz), as well as Nate’s right-hand Charlie (played by former “Three’s Company” alum Richard Kline). They are all perfectly played. None of them are needless or distracting.

Like the characters in director Barry Levinson’s earlier masterpiece “Diner,” much of the charm of “Liberty Heights” derives from conversations. Sometimes inside diners, at others during car rides, at parties, and over evening seder, we learn much about these characters hearing their interactions.

But “Liberty Heights’” true strength lies in its characters, and the connections they share. All of them, down to even the smaller roles, are richer and more nuanced than they initially seem. They have depth, and are fully formed. Whether it’s dancing with his wife (Bebe Neuwirth, from Cheers) in their basement, or ensuring his sons understand the importance of giving back to their community, Nate shows how sincerely loves his family. Later, Ben grows to care deeply for Sylvia. In what might’ve been a clichéd, manufactured rivalry between Van and the boyfriend of an angelic girl he meets at a party, instead we’re shown two bright, confident young men, who admire and respect each other.

I could describe the plot of “Liberty Heights,” but that wouldn’t be fair. It would rob you of discovering its intricacies, surprises and joys for yourself. Would it matter if I told you it involves chance meetings at Halloween parties and aboard street trolleys, fist fights defending religion, Red Fox records, unexpected friendships, racism, more than one high-school crush, Rosh Hashanah, new Cadillacs, James Brown, bleached hair, a long-shot bet that unexpectedly pays off, and an act of respect and bravery that is moving? Suffice to say it is entertaining, funny, poignant, touching, and heartfelt, and honest.

I can’t recommend this film in higher terms. It’s nearly perfect.