Cooper Raiff Once Ate a Peanut and Now I Have a New Favorite Movie
By Maria Staack
Collage by Primcess
When I first came across the film Shithouse (2019), its college setting intrigued me. Few movies about American college experiences exist, many of which parody almost fantastical tropes, think Pitch Perfect (2012) or Neighbors (2014). As I see it, this hole in film history offers so much potential. Upon watching Shithouse, I found it a great example for reaching that potential. The film centers on Alex, a lonely, homesick freshman, who meets Maggie, a brazen sophomore, at a party. Equally complex, the two characters learn valuable lessons from their own differences and similarities. Cooper Raiff’s take on the bonds formed during the transitory period of college feels fresh, raw, and realistic.
The characters in this film seem like very real people, no doubt due to Raiff injecting authentic elements of himself and his life into them. I had the opportunity to ask Raiff—who wrote, directed, edited, and starred in Shithouse—a few questions about his movie. On its personal nature, he noted:
’Twas personal. Most stuff in the movie never actually happened, but all the feelings did. I was trying to bottle real feelings I’ve had or seen. Sometimes I tried to do that by turning them into themes and arguments. Sometimes it was by writing certain characters that were very open in order to show stuff raw. The movie was also very much based on relationships in my life and one of those relationships consisted of lots of arguments about how deeply people should be looking out for each other and how important it is to take care of yourself.
By embedding his own emotions into the fictional experiences of Alex and Maggie, Raiff gives the two characters a tangible depth. This allows viewers to empathize with the characters, even when they make bad judgement calls or act in unlikeable ways. For example, when Alex likes all of Maggie’s Instagram posts and continually DMs her, even though she hasn’t responded. Although this aspect of Alex’s personality could easily veer into creepiness, Raiff backs Alex’s actions with relatable emotions which allow us room to understand his misstep and even see ourselves in his position. The truthfulness of the characters’ emotions grant an accessibility for any audience, even those who have no connection to this particular American college experience.
That being said, as a current college student, I find certain parts of Shithouse laughably relatable to my life. Larger themes, like the unanticipated loneliness of freshman year resonate with me. However, I am more drawn towards specific moments like sitting through shitty stand up comedy, being a part of that annoying friend group in the library (or being annoyed by them), and—the most specific of all—running into classmates while shopping for wigs for a wig party. Within these scenes, the dialogue takes on an authenticity which I would attribute to Raiff’s closeness to the subject. As a project, Shithouse was born in the form of a short film during Raiff’s sophomore year of college, which wasn’t too long ago. I was surprised to find out that he’s only 23. While many would see Raiff’s limited life experience as a hindrance, I think it only served to strengthen his representation of college life today.
As a young creative myself, Raiff comes as an inspiration. In 2020, the SXSW jury awarded Shithouse the Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Feature. That win propelled the film into a wider release than predicted. I asked Raiff about his response to the attention that came along with such a large accolade, he commented:
It’s been so nice feeling like people trust me to make something good… I guess it’s frustrating sometimes when Shithouse will get compared to a really great movie with a massive indie budget and a seasoned director. I want to be like “Hey, give me a sec.” Everybody on set including me thought only friends and family were gonna see Shithouse. But I’m not complaining!
I think it’s common for newcomers to be compared to already established names in their field, no matter what that field may be. For Raiff’s sake, I won’t name names; there are plenty of other articles that do that. It’s hard not to make these comparisons, but I do believe that Raiff has a particular voice that I’m excited to get to see more of.
From what Raiff has said and from the work itself, this film was clearly born out of love. When movies are made by people who are having a good time, that energy comes off of the screen in electrifying ways, as is the case with Shithouse. One anecdote I particularly like from Raiff is about the filming of the last scene: “I accidentally ate a peanut an hour before and there were hives on my face, so I ended up taking mad Benadryl and was very giggly and not stressed filming that scene.” He also said how much he enjoyed working with the rest of the cast. The underlying personal investment that went into the making of the film plays off of the script really well.
Though Shithouse takes on personal ties to Raiff’s own life, and potentially those of its viewers, it also exists within a broader culture. “My goal wasn’t to find a spot in cultural and political contexts, but I would love people to think of Shithouse as a very political movie. I know not many will, but I hope it seeps” said Raiff. Any work of art which successfully evokes the artist’s personal identity and feelings serves as a reflection on the world, and therefore allows viewers to form connections to their own views of the world. The level of vulnerability evident in Shithouse solidifies it as a poignant cultural text. As of now, the movie flies largely under the radar, only known in film circles, but I hope it makes its way to unexpecting audiences. Ideally, it will solidify itself as the college movie of our generation, but only time will tell.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with a list of what has been inspiring Raiff as of late, to further your glimpse into his mind: “Long Bright River by Liz Moore. Last two acts of Silver Linings Playbook. Eliza Scanlen. Danbury, Connecticut.”