Good movies are akin to good dreams—the kind you desperately wish you could slip back into upon waking. Like a portal between reality and fragments of memory, film has a magical way of capturing the juvenile blips of life that otherwise go forgotten with time: naïve first kisses, successful (and unsuccessful) attempts to sneak out, heartbreaks, parties, and fleeting glimpses of freedom. 

Recently, I found myself parked outside of a CVS at midnight beside a bunch of teenagers who were blasting throwbacks and hanging out in their Volkswagen Jetta. Strangely dreamlike, it was like a scene out of a movie. I wanted to roll down my window and shout to them: “Enjoy this! One day it won’t feel so special to sit in a parking lot with your friends anymore!” But alas, I wouldn’t dare disturb them; that would ruin their magic. The best part of getting older is that you don’t realize it’s happening until years later, when it hits you that somewhere along the way, you grew up. 

We can’t relive our youth—for better or for worse—but if we’re lucky, we can revisit. Glimmers of childhood can be found late at night in CVS parking lots, in dreams, or by watching films that capture these liminal wrinkles in time.

Below, I’ve compiled a list of scenes from coming-of-age films to watch if you find yourself yearning to reminisce about years past or get lost in anemia for a life you’ve never known.  

Kings of Summer  It’s summertime in the suburban Midwest, and three high school boys, longing to escape the suffocation of their overbearing parents, run away to the woods and build a house of their own. Beneath the film’s comedic surface floats a familiar fantasy—the highs and lows of childhood’s first freedoms. A brief, yet remarkably poignant moment takes place when two of the boys stumble upon an untouched area of the deep woods at nighttime. “Where are we?” asks Biaggio, to which Joe responds, “Someplace they won’t find you.” This is a striking image of the exhilarating, naïve realization that freedom is attainable. 

Moonlight The three-time Oscar-winning film illuminates the struggle of a Black man, Chiron, coming to terms with his sexual and racial identity through different stages of his life. Dense with heartbreak, the film redefines the coming-of-age genre. An extraordinary scene takes place while Chiron is a teenager, sharing a blunt on a breezy Miami beach with his childhood friend. Lit by the moon and scored by rolling waves, this is a cinematic painting of an evolving sense of self through burgeoning sexual intimacy. It brilliantly captures the feeling of cautious youthful desire and changing friendship.  

The Virgin Suicides Based on Jeffrey Eugenides’ book of the same name, Sofia Coppola’s feature directorial and writing debut holds a mirror to youthful confusion, romance, and angst through the dark story of the five Lisbon sisters. The film’s dreamy visuals contrast starkly with the underlying themes of shattered innocence. After the sisters are finally allowed to go to prom, Lux ends up losing her virginity on the football field with Trip Fontaine. In the most delicately climactic scene, she wakes alone and realizes that he’s left her there. Though riddled with melancholy, this milky-blue moment captures a recognizable heartbreak. 

Mid90s  Written and directed by Jonah Hill and set in 1990s Los Angeles, the slice-of-life film encapsulates an era of skate culture layered thick with nostalgia. Mid90s follows a troubled young teenage boy enamored by a group of older skaters who take him under their wing. 

One scene in particular, set to Herbie Hancock’s “Watermelon Man,” paints the group’s arrival at a house party through a dimly lit tracking shot. It’s so undeniably cool that you’ll wish you could slip through the screen and join them. The hum of buzzed background conversation and the giddy whoops of excitement for teenage debauchery will evoke a vague familiarity for anyone who has lost bits of purity to blossoming vices.  

Aftersun In one of the most beautiful odes to growing up ever depicted on film, Aftersun follows a struggling, recently divorced father, Calum, and his adolescent daughter, Sophie, on vacation. Charlotte Wells’ semi-autobiographical film proves that coming-of-age themes are relevant at many eras of life. A remarkable scene takes place on the last night of their vacation in which Calum and Sophie dance to a haunting remix of “Under Pressure.” Fractured by dreamlike strobe shots of adult Sophie and her father at an ambiguous rave, the sequence captures a fleeting final moment of joy between the two. A surrealistic haze, it meditates upon the inevitable passage of time and lost innocence—giving a new meaning to the lyrics “this is our last dance, this is ourselves.”

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