Riddle of Fire Is a Joy to Solve

Life for today’s young’uns is frankly terrifying, even if they aren’t literally living inside a horror film, with overarching threats to their future dotted by day-to-day micro-threats. In its unassuming way as real-world fantasy, Weston Razooli’s Riddle of Fire is sensitive to these plights, and casually rejects didactic allegory about them. This, Razooli suggests, is simply a film about childhood’s rigors. Coming of age is a hero’s quest no matter how terrible its sociopolitical context may be.
Riddle of Fire treats that wound tenderly instead of massaging it with salt. DP Jake Mitchell shoots on 16 mm film, allowing each image to marinate in a gentle nostalgia, not the kind that pines for bygone days neither he nor Razooli were alive for, but the kind that recalls shared sensation. Remember: All of us were children once. The aesthetic achieved in the movie evokes childhood while dispensing with arrested referentialism. Following its premiere at Cannes last year, and subsequent screenings at Fantastic Fest and TIFF, Riddle of Fire inevitably drew comparisons to The Goonies. If the family resemblance is there, it’s distant; both films feature young protagonists, yes, and yes, both sets of protagonists contend with nefarious “families” with bad intentions, and yes, most other adults met along the journey are wholesale jerks. The blueprint is undeniable.
But Razooli believes in magic where Richard Donner believes in structuring a whole damn picture around nods to Merian C. Cooper, Mel Brooks, Jim Sharman, and a host of other, better filmmakers. Riddle of Fire takes place in a world separate from ours, where neither King Kong, nor High Anxiety, nor The Goonies exist. Razooli has cut his story off from pop culture, left the characters and the narrative deprived of opportunity to wink and nudge at the movies that rank among his inspirations. What results from that isolation is pure and true. Three kids – siblings Hazel (Charlie Stover) and Jodie (Skyler Peters), and their friend Alice (Phoebe Ferro) – long to get their hands on a new, grungy-looking video game, and in keeping with their age, they make a scheme to steal it; their success is black-flagged at the last lap by the password to Hazel and Jodie’s TV, which their mother, Julie (Danielle Hoetmer), won’t surrender… unless they can bring her a blueberry pie.