We Are Not Your Friends: Part II

Believe it or not, there's more (or less) to this movie.

I ended part one of this series with a cliffhanger. So just what is Cole’s “Guide to Rocking a Party?” How does this bro of all bros make magic happen? Like everything else revolving around DJing, Cole thinks it’s pretty easy.

1. Cole mansplains that at the very least a DJ needs a caveman’s sense of rhythm. Well, that and knowledge of mathematics and biology. That’s because the bassline controls the most important part of the body. And what else could that be but the pelvic region and hips. A braless Sophie begins gyrating and eyes fixate on Cole as he turns up the heat. 

2. Aside from that, it’s all about BPM. You’ve got to zero in on their heartbeats. Cole turns it up to 120 BPM, you know- the heartbeat of a long distance runner. Duh. Lock onto that heart rate until you get to the magic number. Who knew there was one? Cole somehow does and it’s 128 BPM. He explains that it's a popular myth (key phrase that likely means, found in the depths of the internet) that the tempo synergizes with your circadian rhythm. So if you can just keep the beat on 128 you control the dancefloor’s circulatory system. Easy peasy, right?! If it was I think the CIA would be all over that ish. It also sounds like bullshit. Also, if that was true, then wouldn’t 180 BPM potentially cause mass cardiac arrest?!

The moment Cole locks in that perfect BPM, he eyes his bros walking in and crashing the party. He again whips his headphones off. And this time hands them to an unsuspecting stranger asking him to take over. Whether he knows how to use a mixer is irrelevant. Whatever sorcery Cole is blessed with will keep the party rocking remotely. On second thought, maybe it's actually a pre recorded set.

Cole instructs his posse to not embarrass him and introduces them to James. He then feels so confident with a stranger taking over his set, that he fully deserts the decks for a tour of James’ studio. Now, I'm no producer. My understanding of gear is pretty much limited to an 808, 303, and maybe an MPC. And a whoooole lot of knobs and buttons and whatnot. But my mega talented producer friend has confirmed that this studio is someone’s wet dream come true. It’s kitted out with every ridiculous piece of gear and instrument one could want, including a Wurlitzer and a Buchla.

Cole has a second chance to come correct and play his track on actual quality speakers rather than an iphone. In my humble opinion, it sounds better when played very quietly. James however, is somewhat impressed. But of course he has notes. He remarks that the beginning sounds like Skrillex’s brother made it. Ouch. And his secondary important comment is that it sounds like early Juan Atkins. Attention, Max Joseph aka Mr Director- I’m directly challenging you as to how that god awful sound references Juan Atkins. If you think I'm mistaken please let me know. Because, if I'm right, which I'm sure I am- you are tokenizing an iconic and important Black artist who is a creator of the genre of which you base your repugnant and foul movie off of. And doing so in order to get creds from an audience you’re too lazy to educate properly. Your mention of Juan Atkins is the only reference of any sort to electronic music being founded by Black artists. And instead you’re raking in coin… oh excuse me, millions reaping benefits from the legacy of their work. The gall. The fucking nerve. The white privilege of it all.

After quoting Emerson, James decides that Cole has enough potential to take him under his wing. Cole, who earlier described James as “used to be good” couldn’t be luckier to have this incredible mentor to impart his doo doo droppings of knowledge and delusions of grandeur.

Back at the party, Mason, the most aggressive bro, gets into an argument with a guest over sushi. Yes, sushi. He thinks he has the ultimate zinger and tells this preppy guy that he’s dressed like Hilary Clinton and throws him in the pool. Ermm, okay. I’m not seeing a headband, pantsuit or any other parallels visual or otherwise, but that’s besides the point. Sir Steroids, can you really proclaim that a strip mall in Encino has the best sushi in the Western Hemisphere? Maybe it does and maybe it doesn’t But, regardless who the fuck gets into altercations about sushi? Party over.

The next day, dejected and deflated, Cole gets back into studio mode. And wouldn’t you know it, bingo! Just a few hours in and he’s created a new track. He rushes over to see his new bullshittery BFF James who he finds passed out with a drink in hand. It’s the first clue of many that this superstar DJ has a drinking problem. No matter, Sophie stirs him and it’s back to the studio they go to listen to the miracle of a track made in no time flat.

Amidst all Cole’s “synthetic computer generated garbage” James proclaims there’s “one honest handclap.” Though he has a point about the benefits of using organic sounds, calling digital music trash seems way over the top. I’d imagine his circus sounding music relies on plenty of that. They then dive into more of James’ janky music production methods. Sophie soon comes to the studio and after just 2 minutes of ogling, James whisks her off for some hanky panky.

Back at the wannabe “Wolf of Wall Street” strip mall office, Cole and his pathetic posse are raking in cash-o-la hand over fist. And then back another hyped up montage- this time of merry music making. Cole and James are now conjoined at both of their hippest hips and the bestest of friends. The fast track is real. Cole is whisked off to the hot clubs with the hot people and gets the hot gigs. But sidenote- for all the advice that James gives Cole, he never tells him he looks like an asshole for wearing his headphones everywhere, all the time. We know that Cole has started climbing the social ladder of success when the girls begin flocking to him and hookups commence. The toxic male message is loud and clear- DJing gets you pussy. And it’s also clear that James is cheating on Sophie.

There is life outside dance music though. At least for Sophie who wants to attend a college party with her Stanford friends. Since she’s James’ second fiddle, he insists that Cole take her. So the two of them head off to a house party. For them it’s an alien scene complete with wine and cheese and where no one knows a thing about electronic music. These two are too cool for that school. All is copacetic until Cole overhears two preppy bros talking crudely about Sophie’s body and gossiping about her fucking her boss. This type of conversation is all good with Cole when its about strangers, but not one of his friends- especially one he’d like to fuck. He bucks up with bravado to the dockers’ clad dudes and says- “when you guys jerk each other off do you take turns or is it more like a simultaneous kind of deal?” and then knocks them out. Another suggestion at a sub-plot perhaps?

It’s time for the bro brigade to go to a festival. A massive one in Vegas at that. With plenty of party favors for sale, it’s time to rake in some coin. Sophie surprises Cole with a text so he ditches his friends and meets her at the ferris wheel. I’m not sure why there’s a ferris wheel at this monstrosity of a festival, but then again, not everything is for me. She hit him up because James got drunk and ditched her. But somehow, she doesn’t seem so sad. We find out that’s because she’s rolling. And she has plans for Cole. She asks him to stick out his tongue and places a molly gently on it. It’s not like this movie is the epitome of realism, but this part is ridiculous- he doesn’t even so much as bat an eye to its revolting taste. Commence montage #17, a fantasy frolic around the city of sin, until their loins just can’t resist each other any longer. The molly peaks and they make out for what feels like forever. They then buck up for a baller suite at what looks like the Bellagio at what must cost four or five digits to do the deed. How they paid for it is unclear. They both seemed pretty broke so one could guess it might be on James’ credit card.

Does Sophie freak out upon waking up next to Cole in the morning? Of course not. Her first thought is to order room service. One of those cheesy scenes where the skinny girl gorges herself ensues. A cheeseburger and bacon and fries and a side of avocado, etc. They sit across from each other at a romantic room service table for two as the cloches come off and they romantically stuff their faces, eating and talking with their mouths open.

Back in Los Angeles, Cole pines away for Sophie without any word following their post-coital hook up. He shows zero remorse about fucking his mentor’s girlfriend. Ya know, the famous DJ who showed him the ropes, took him under his wing and helped launch his career. Yes, this type of thing does happen in real life. But the glamorization of cheating without any sense of contrition is yet another gross picturization of society.

However, he does soon hear from James who invites him over for the “big fight.” Though trepidatious that his ass is about to get beaten down, it ends up that it’s just to watch a boxing match. He finally sees Sophie, which is incredibly awkward- she wants to forget they ever slept together. James, who is completely clueless at their betrayals, rewards Cole by getting him a gig at Summerfest AND buying him a laptop to prepare for it. Cole has zero remorse and snaps up his prizes. He’s not all terrible though, his conscience somewhat catches up with him when he soon realizes that the Wolf of Wall Street-esque scam involves stealing houses from under people who are facing foreclosure. Don’t worry though, he’s still an awful human being and that doesn’t stop him from stacking more cash and stashing it in the Adidas shoe box under his bed.

Cut to James’ birthday. For an unbeknownst reason Cole is sitting in their kitchen when he and Sophie get home from dinner. No shocker here, James is drunk again and Sophie thinks he’s out of control. James takes his birthday beautiful cake out of the fridge and starts eating it with his hands. And it’s not because there isn’t any clean silverware, it’s because he’s the ultimate asshole. Tied for the honor with Cole that is. And because Cole’s favorite game is to follow the leader and kiss ass, he follows suit. Disgusted at their lack of manners, Sophie runs upstairs and slams the bedroom door. What else could that mean other than, it’s time for the bros to hit up the strip club.

Courtside for cleavage, James raises a toast to Cole playing at Summerfest, when his baby bro gets the spins, jets off for the bathroom and barfs up the cake that he just devoured like an animal. But that’s not the fuck up. Cole left his phone on the table. Screen side up that is. Ring, ring- guess who it is?! The very girl he’s been waiting to call him back for quite some time calling at the exact wrong time. And the clueless Cole saved her contact with a picture of them canoodling during their Vegas EDM escapade.

James sees red (for good reason) and storms to the bathroom shoving the still ringing phone in Cole’s face. “Did you fuck her?” In his most convincing acting scene, Zac Efron in the part of Cole plays dumb and says “what” and gets knocked out. Violence isn’t okay, but let’s be real- he kinda deserved it. And at the hands of James who we learn is a badass because he spent four years fighting in MMA with an emphasis on Muay Thai. Still not answering James’ question, Cole gives an “I don’t give a fuck” shrug of his shoulders. Now fully laid out on the tile floor, he progresses his situation from shitty to shittier- calling James a loser and a drunk sellout collecting checks. As Cole’s face bleeds, he can only wish for that type of success. James squats to his eye level and commences on an intense monologue about his career then jets. The gig is up and Summerfest is obviously off. 

Back to the quad squad of bros. There’s no time like the present for their posse to upgrade their standard of living, so they rent a house with a pool. To celebrate they jump in an end that looks scarily shallow and mayhem ensues. Montage #24 commences, this time to the tune of a song that romanticizes getting blacked out. A couple hundred people appear for their raging house party with everything you wouldn't want, but would expect.

The next morning, they wake up strewn amongst the trash on the carpet of their new abode. The first order of business? Who was the blonde chick that Mason thinks he banged? They ask Squirrel who still hasn’t risen. No answer as they shake him. Oh fuck, Squirrel is dead. Road kill on their high-way to bullshittery. The passing of Squirrel causes an existential crisis and fighting amongst the party of now three, and the band of brothers breaks up.

Since Cole has no one else to turn to, what better idea than to show back up at James’ house. The absolute nerve. James reminds Cole that he fucked his girlfriend and called him washed up. Semantics. Cole thinks he has a sage point and says- “those weren’t my exact words.” A begrudging and weak ass apology comes forth. James accepts and offers more sage advice, “man, you’re not even a real person until you’re 27.” One thing is clear, James is no pro-lifer.

Cole makes a second stop on his, I no longer have friends tour of amends, and visits Sophie at her new job at a coffee shop. They have yet another awkward exchange and she offers him free pie. Nuff said.

Now refreshed and refocusing, Cole sets out for a run. Out of nowhere, the headphones forever stuck to his head stop working. But Cole turns those lemons into lemonade. He finally follows James’ advice and tunes into the organic sounds that surround him. The buzz of electrical towers, wind chimes, birds, a nail gun on a roof. Eureka!! He’s inspired yet again. He gets down to business at the laptop that James gifted him. And voila, within no time flat, he’s made yet another track.

And just in time. Summerfest is tomorrow. He plays his masterpiece for James and is immediately booked. That’s how quick and easy it is. Yet another realistic portrayal of how the dance music scene works. And you’re supposed to believe that you can do it without any real effort too.

And finally, it’s the day of all days. It’s Summerfest. A massive crowd waits for Cole in complete silence as he trepidatiously walks up to the main stage for his first major gig. He plugs his laptop in. More dead silence follows as everyone waits with bated breath. There happens to be a mic, so he says what’s up and introduces himself. I mean, with the late notice there’s no way he was listed on the flyer, so I guess- who can blame him?! And then he begins his hard(ly) worked-on track.

But wait. He’s not DJ-ing, this is a live set. Complete with lots of gear and numerous knobs and buttons. Which is all good. I’m here for live sets and would love more of them in general. But why oh why did this entire movie refer to DJing for the finale scene to just end in a live set? I guess they assume most movie viewers might not clock it. The melange of sounds that flow forth are reminiscent of a Fisher Price toy, but less cool and lacking soul.

The intensity builds. Cut to an unnecessary frame of lions roaring to reflect the surge of testosterone. He taps on the keyboard like a bird with its beak. The crowd peaks. His mind flashes to sweet Squirrel who asked him “are we ever gonna be better than this?!” The emotion swells as he wipes his eyes, picks up the mic and screams it out at the 95% white crowd. The subpar sounds continue streaming from the stage. He thumps his chest and repeats Squirrel’s chorus, continuing to play his heart out. I have zero basis for this, but I imagine that while filming the scene perhaps there was a fluffer under the decks. His face is just so intense.

Cole was right all along. All he needed was that one track. But my question is, why did he have an entire set booked for one song. That’s super odd. I’ve literally never ever heard of that before. It takes up to the very last bits of film for Cole to have the epiphany that it's all about the music. Well, that's great and all. But a few floundering minutes at the end does pretty much nothing to make up for the massive misogyny, overt omission of POC and LGBTQIA+, incredibly white cast, and rape- y type dialogue. And of course the movie ends with Cole getting the girl. Because even though he just discovered that music is central to well…music, that getting the hot girl is indeed what it’s all about. That and of course, that piece of pie.

Written in memory of Arthur with whom I've obsessed and cackled about this movie countless times.