There is something wonderful about running across an independent film that catches you off guard, in a best-case scenario. For movie lovers who’ve grown cynical of the polished and sometimes predictable beats of big-studio releases, the thrill of uncovering a sleeper hit like Delinquent (2016) is like finding a cache of buried treasure. It’s raw, natural, and a testament to the power of independent narrative when it chooses depth over spectacle.
From the first few moments, Delinquent establishes its tone with assurance. We are introduced to 17-year-old Joey—played with understated strength by Alex Shaffer—through Allyson’s camera eyes. The moment is intimate, even conspiratorial.
Joey’s a combination of boyish charisma and brooding menace, the sort of fellow who can be funny while making you uneasy. But beneath the braggadocio is something warmer, something more susceptible, and that emotional undertow soon becomes the core of the movie.
Joey and Allyson have an instant, interesting chemistry. She’s reserved, cool, obviously interested in Joey’s bad-boy energy. Their flirtation is abruptly ended when a fight with a jock breaks out in violence, proving that Joey’s not all about posing. It’s a quick, effective scene that validates the film’s philosophy: comfort can be destroyed at a moment’s notice, and life in reality isn’t always neatly resolved.
As we trail Joey around his drowsy New England town, the movie lingers, acclimating us to his universe. The 90s hip-hop soundtrack throbs in the distance, and the camera absorbs the roughness of his surroundings—cluttered rooms, weathered buildings, and the caretaking responsibilities Joey has at home.
He cares for his little sisters, struggles to hold the family together, and copes with a father, Rich (Bill Sage), whose criminal lifestyle has conditioned all that’s around him. His relationship with him is complicated but re.l, Joey was frequently pushed into adulthood by his dad being ringleader and absent father at the same time.
You can tell that Joey wants to be involved in his father’s criminal world. When Rich drags him along into a heist to steal rare coins from a neighborhood antique shop, Joey seizes the opportunity to test himself. But, as is predictably the case, everything goes sour. The owner of the store recognizes Joey, and what was to be a professional job decays into brutality and irrevocable destruction. A gradual unfolding of guilt, broken allegiance, and secrets whose weight becomes ever greater day by day, ensues.
What truly separates Delinquent is its unapologetic authenticity. Director Kieran Valla, inspired by his Connecticut heritage, transmutes his hometown of Litchfield into something greater than a backdrop—it becomes part of the film’s essence. The utilization of actual locals and real-world settings imbues the film with a lived-in, unadulterated quality. Daniel Marks’ camerawork seizes on the sleepy quietude of rural existence, rooting all dramatic moments in a reality that’s difficult to simulate.
The performances all around are exemplary. Alex Shaffer brings depth to Joey—he’s streetwise yet still retains a sort of boyish idealism. Bill Sage brings gravity as the smooth-talking but untrustworthy father, with Kevin Bigley and David Fierro bringing tension and bite as Rich’s gang.
Delinquent does not attempt to reimagine the genre, and that’s precisely its virtue. It tells a relatable story in a new way, honestly and from the heart. There’s no glamorizing, no moral convenience. It’s a gradually building, low-key, intense drama about consequences, family, and the allure of wrong turns. For everyone who adores indie movies that are realistic and uncompelled, Delinquent is an under-the-radar gem worth your time.