There's some exquisite lighting effects in "Waves," from a crackling fire to police light bars and rainbows, which is complimented by occasionally kinetic montage and hand-held camera movement. Quite a few shots tracking behind figures' heads in this one. And all of the bobbing of the frame coalesces with the rhythm of the soundtrack. The narrative is something of a rigmarole, though. Following the oscillations of a suburban African-American family in crisis, from teenage son wrestler abusing painkillers for his injured shoulder while fighting with his girlfriend over pregnancy, to the daughter dating one of her brother's teammates, I guess, while the father and mother struggle with their relationship and business. The melodramatic climax actually occurs in the middle of the picture, and it's intense. Even the aspect ratio closes in from the usual rectangle to more of a square tending to frame the characters' faces.
Yet, tracking the immature emotional waves of teenagers for over two hours, in what is essentially two pictures in one with two separate protagonists, is exhausting. Nary any intellectual engagement is to be had. The score is all over the place and generally prominent. Maybe you'll like the music and maybe you won't, or perhaps you'll be like me and like some it and not the rest. The problem, however, is that the picture relies too heavily upon it. Teens, their music and feelings. Lots of scenes merely of figures riding around in cars. Drama frequently trying to be wrought from texting and social media. When the tortuous theatrics are, at last, wrapped up, it comes as a relief.
