My Suicide (Movie Review)

How's this for an ambitious film class project: videotaping your own suicide.

Sure, it presents some logistical snafus, but how can you beat that ending?

Or so thinks the “hero” of David Lee Miller’s My Suicide, Archie -- a high school video editing and effects geek/virtuoso who has a small studio in his bedroom.



The boy's an outcast, finding a thrill and a certain poetry in his own death. He reveals his intentions to his teacher and peers, egging them on with an "I dare you to think I'm joking" attitude. All of a sudden, students are coming at Archie from both sides; some yell at him for expressing such thoughts and others congratulate him. Of note, at least to the boy, is Sierra, the school’s most popular, successful, and beautiful girl who, for some reason or another, wants to pick Archie’s self-destructive brain.

Is Archie poor, starving, abused, or harboring unmentionable secrets that weigh on his mind every hour of every day? No. Rather, he’s a loner with a comfortable living but neglectful parents, from what he tells us. So why does he want to kill himself? Well, because he feels “numb.” His life is too comfortable; everything’s too easy, too monotonous, too unfulfilling that he figures, what’s the point of living?

Many people, young and old, find themselves feeling the same way Archie does; day-to-day life leaves them feeling miserable in its conformity, safety, and yes, numbness. Archie, in his teenage American Idiot mind, decides that the only way to end this vicious cycle is to end his life. It never occurs to him to, y’know, try to be proactive in changing the way he lives, in forging his own future, in breaking the monotony. But many of Archie’s peers share his sentiment. We see teens advocating his decision passionately while relating their own suicidal considerations in a manner so frank, I wouldn’t have been surprised if some of these were actual confessionals.

Rapid editing and excessive use of green-screening attempt to portray Archie’s state of mind. He rants about his parents, the stupid kids at school, the numbness that he feels.... He acts out film scenes, creates infomercials, animates, and all for what? Ignoring the improbability of a boy his age with that kind of equipment, skill, time, and energy, what’s the point of shoving this down our throat for three quarters of the film? Were these inventive, colorful, fun sequences he created supposed to convince me that this kid is depressed and numb? I was convinced of the exact opposite! Every audience member was laughing as he reenacted classic scenes and rotoscoped himself into footage of a Nazi rally, yet we’re supposed to believe that he’s bored of life and wants out? I wonder if Miller notices the flaw in this logic, as he over-saturates My Suicide with image after image of Archie sticking a gun in his mouth. The character this excessiveness creates is one who talks a lot of smack and has nothing to back it up. Consequently, I don’t sympathize with him or long to see him redeemed as Miller tries to manipulate me to; I’d rather see this guy slapped with a healthy dose of reality.


The film sparsely mentions one of Archie’s heroes, a filmmaker/writer/poet/activist named Vargas. Clips show him spouting off incoherent words glorifying death, words that Archie takes to heart. This guy has it right. Death is interesting, life is not. Of course, that’s not what Vargas really means. His message? If you want to kill something, kill the part of you that you don’t like, so that you’re left with the beautiful parts that you do. Kill your old selfish ways and make yourself new.

Good message, but...what does that have to do with our protagonist? Archie’s problem, as we’re supposed to see it, isn’t with any part of him he doesn’t like. He’s just sick of this boring, numb living. How is Archie supposed to receive an epiphany from “Kill the part of yourself you don’t like”? He hates everyone else! Yes, there are many constructive ways to apply this advice to Archie’s situation, but given the way he’s warped all of his reasoning thus far throughout the film, I don’t trust the lad to realistically make sense of advice like this. Besides, it feels like fortune cookie counseling forced onto the movie rather than flowing from it.

I left the theater as soon as My Suicide’s credits began rolling, but at that SXSW screening, the film was met with thunderous applause, and, from what I hear, a standing ovation. For the rest of the week, I overheard filmgoers in line praising the film, wondering why it didn’t receive any SXSW Awards; some claim it was the best thing they saw all week, next to the Metropolis screening, of course. I was honestly shocked at how many people totally fell for this film, how many viewers David Lee Miller manipulated with over-directing, flashy editing, and flaw-disguising comedy. This was a film that couldn’t breath, couldn’t find its own path because Miller’s agenda kept getting in the way. Is the Anti-Suicide message an important one? Abso-freaking-lutely. But in Miller’s hand, My Suicide gives off way too many mixed signals to argue either side intelligently.

Maybe this film hits hard for some people. Maybe it’s helpful. But at times I found My Suicide offensively irresponsible. For three-quarters of the film, it glorifies suicide. What a great idea! Kill yourself on camera as a school project! All the flashy editing and jokes serve to convey to us, “This kid’s nuts, but funny! Look at him! Ha!” We see a ton of other kids spouting out teenage BS about how life is nothing, life is numb. They’re not afraid of death, bring it on! It’s only in the last quarter of the film that it stops down and says, “Listen guys, seriously, suicide’s not cool. We weren’t serious with all that stuff before.”

I know what the director’s trying to do. I know that he’s trying to convey a certain mindset. I know he tries to flip that mindset on its butt near the end of the film. But I think the damage has already been done. Yeah, some of the lessons from the film are scary, but it’s hard to forget that Miller just showed us an hour’s worth of flashy sequences with this really funny kid sticking a gun in his mouth or up against his temple more times than I can count. Miller just spent the entire film vindicating the suicidal musings of spoiled kids who complain because they have things too good. But wait, remember the moral of the story? Suicide is not good. I guess that makes everything that came before okay, right?