We Are Your Friends

Overview

“Can you play 'Drunk in Love'?” is the question that keeps hounding 23-year-old Cole Carter (Zac Efron) when he DJs at nightclubs and parties. Sometimes he says no, and sometimes he finds a way to politely sidestep the request, but he's never really pleased about being asked. That obvious unhappiness stems from his main aim — not just to make it big doing what he loves but to do so with authenticity. Pressing play on the hot song of the moment isn't what he's into.

Instead, Cole believes that he can have an impact on more than people's feet, and that all he needs is a laptop, some talent and one new track that resonates on the dance floor to see his dreams become a reality. With his fellow San Fernando Valley-dwelling friends Mason (Jonny Weston), Ollie (Shiloh Fernandez) and Squirrel (Alex Shaffer), he promotes parties, scrounges for gigs and tries to do just that. Working for a shady real estate mogul (Jon Bernthal) helps him make cash to keep afloat. Becoming friends with one of his idols, James (Wes Bentley), also assists in moving him in the right direction; however, falling for James's assistant and girlfriend, Sophie (Emily Ratajkowski), doesn't.

Every generation — or every couple of years, really — a film comes along that makes an effort to reflect the teenage and twenty-something lifestyles of the day, touch upon their hopes and aspirations, and wrap it all into a heavily stylised, soundtrack-focused party movie. Prominently featuring the 2006 Justice vs Simian song that gives the feature its title, We Are Your Friends is the latest formulaic attempt, though it is founded upon good intentions.

Mia Hansen-Love’s similarly themed Eden from earlier this year aside, a film about the electronic dance music scene might seem an unlikely candidate to provide a soul-searching look at forging a creative career and remaining true to yourself in the process, but that's what Catfish TV series co-host and cameraman turned first-time feature writer/director Max Joseph, with co-scribe Meaghan Oppenheimer, endeavour to do. Cole's struggle to find his sound and his way feels genuine, even if everything around it — distancing himself from his mates, the romantic subplot, a crisis of conscience and the incursion of tragedy — feels much too calculated and convenient in following the typical coming-of-age format.

Efron, still toiling valiantly to parlay his High School Musical fame into meaty film roles, also comes across as earnest in an effort that is sleek and superficial otherwise. The underrated actor might always look the stereotypical part, complete with headphones hanging around his neck and the requisite shirtless scene, but he's the force that makes the story matter without ever really seeming like he's trying to.

Alas, he is stranded in an overly flashy music video aesthetic that grates against any real sentiments the film attempts to conjure — large text on screen, an overuse of slow motion and ample shots of pretty young things included. Indeed, the disconnect between the film's emotion and its method of delivery just can't be shaken, nor can its template, even if the pulsating beat tries to offer a distraction.