Knee High is not trying to blow buildings up or reveal a Shyamalanian twist at the end, it's for those willing to sit and feel the truth of Cal's truth. Knee High, Directed by Marissa Vonn, is a poetic art film that explores the fractured world of Cal Melbourne. Cal is a young father at the crossroads of grief, responsibility, and disillusionment. It feels like the personal filmmaking of directors like Chloé Zhao (The Rider), Kelly Reichardt (First Cow), and Debra Granik (Leave No Trace), who all create stories where silence and the environment have something to say.
At its core, Knee High is a meditation on identity during life's transitional seasons. These are things that we will all go through in our own ways, feelings that we will all feel. Cal is caught between being a co-parent, grandson, reluctant farmer, and feels unable to fully inhabit any of them. The death of his grandfather is the catalyst for this crossroads, forcing him to decide whether to be the head of the family farm, or head down a new path (represented by Kelsey, played by Melissa Keller).
There is a short film prequel by the same name (Knee High 2019) on Vimeo if you want to explore the build up more - though its not necessary to enjoy this film. Vonn resists sentimental cliche, instead going for a more realistic approach of how uncertainty and grief manifest. A look across a corn field, a half finished thought, a father's hesitation for saying what he truly feels. Things that have you aching for him to speak.
Michael Ridley as Cal gives a quiet, powerful performance. He embodies the struggle and vulnerability that give us an insight into Cal's internal struggle. The Iowa backdrop is a character, it feels lonely, expansive and bittersweet. The cinematography reflects Cal's emotional and mental state. Wide, open frames that often feel empty rather than free, and cutaway landscape shots that feel like Cal's memories of a better time. The film's deliberate pacing makes you feel time passing the way Cal does; slowly and heavily.
Knee High shows us that often our most profound lessons are internal. The narrative doesn't rely on unnecessary drama to move forward, it uses the slow process of bonding. It shows us that it's ok to not have all the answers, it's not weak to ask for help, and that healing begins with acceptance. The relationships all feel real, especially the co parenting dynamic between Cal and Kelsey. Just because one person desires something, doesn't mean they will get it. But they are bonded by the charming presence of Avery.
The film is layered and allows for subsequent viewings. What may first seem like a simple slice of life rural drama reveals itself to be layered exploration of generational trauma, financial burdens, masculine vulnerability, and emotional resilience.
Watching Knee High makes you feel what our characters do; tender, adrift, stretched thin, but not without light. In this way, Knee High uniquely offers quiet permission to feel deeply, to wander, and to grow slowly.
