Conor Sherry On Teenageism
Paramount Pictures
‘Snack Shack’ Gives new comer Conor Sherry a well lit Stage.
Words by Dio Anthony
There is a scene in the 1984 John Hughes classic Sixteen Candles that perfectly outlines the spirit of the film. It goes like this. On the morning of her birthday, a newly turned 16-year-old, Samantha Baker, reveals herself to her family, expecting praise and the required kindness that even bratty little brothers abide by on one's special day. Only to find out they've forgotten altogether. Each family member has gone "completely outer limits," she complains. Each one of them is too wrapped up in their own lives to realize the unforgivable mistake they've collectively made. Molly Ringwald, who was just 15 years old at the time, utters the line "They fucking forgot my birthday" before thrusting into a true-to-type 1980s opening intro. The scene is both brutal and comical. A tad unbelievable and totally teenage.
Adam Rehmeier's Snack Shack, his fifth film, is set in Nebraska during the summer of 1991 and aims to follow a similar coming-of-age blueprint. We meet our heroes, or anti-heroes, if you will, A.J. and Moose, played by Conor Sherry and Gabriel LaBelle, in a sequence that feels like a heist: fast-paced, loud, and overflowing with teenage boy energy. Sherry's A.J. is our Samantha Baker: young, hungry for life outside of the season's minutia, and grappling with the all-too-familiar condition of being a misunderstood teenager. You know how it is; parents (and their contemporaries) just don't understand.
Born nine years after the film is set, today, Sherry is 23 years old and a couple of chapters ahead of his teenage experience. His memories and the feelings surrounding them, however, remain fresh. "The constant butterflies," he says, are what he remembers most. "We're surrounded by so much technology now, but the feelings are the same," he continues. "The first girl you like, finding out your best friend's been talking to that girl—there's a lot of firsts. They might have been on Kik Messenger for me, but for A.J., it was at the Snack Shack."
Snack Shack, the film's title, refers to the gig that A.J. and Moose take on for the summer at their town's local public pool. A natural haven for adventure and good trouble. In 2024, the worst and most probable thing to go down at the local snack shack is someone getting dunked into the water with their smartphone in their pocket. It might even be safe to say that it's a universal fear in today's world. In the world Rehmeier has built, the only phones in sight are wired to our kitchen walls, and in my opinion, that's what makes all the difference. Sherry agrees, even though he'll arrive nearly a decade later, in 2000. "It was interesting getting to relive certain things I'd been through, but through the lens of the nineties. Everything was relationship-based, and everyone was face-to-face. That's what those times were like." He's right, the nineties, often deemed the last great decade, were a simpler time, and interactions, like conversations, were amplified and possessed a level of focus (mindfulness?) absent today.
“We’re surrounded by so much technology now, but the feelings are the same.”
In the same way, omitting the necessary technologies of today makes it easier to recognize the charm of Snack Shack. Causing a trimming of layers concerning the relationships depicted and getting to the core theme of this story. According to its star, it's a story about life itself and the randomness of it. Not just the good surprises, but the bad ones, too.
"My character A.J.'s got his blinders of being 15 on, and the most important thing for him is getting the girl and trying to make some money. Those ideas get completely blown off as the story goes on, and he realizes that the world is bigger than that," notes Sherry from his home in LA. "For me, the most beautiful part of that lesson was that A.J.'s father, played by David Constabile, learns the same thing. It's a beautiful reminder for all ages," he adds.
Particularly, it's the clear and proven chemistry between Sherry and LaBelle that opens up Rehmeier's film to some true heart. They are careless with their words to each other, like most boys their age. They bicker incessantly, break out into momentary one-on-one tackles, and curse a lot, a lot. All to say that not only do they trust each other, but they care deeply about each other too.
"I've received many nice messages from people about the portrayal of two 15-year-old best friends," he says excitedly. "The film zooms in on a relationship that's such a pivotal part of so many young lives. I think it's relatable, and it's not something we see authentically, down to the language and how they treat one another." This was amplified by Rehmeier's approach to his direction. "Adam's very intuitive. So much of what you see on screen is directly what was on the page. Gabe and I became real-life best friends, and I think that comes off. We got into a rhythm very early on, and it carried through. Adam wasn't super specific. He just let us be boys." The ages of 13–17 have a way of eliciting more curse words than necessary from young men. In personal theory, it seems like stretching your finger out onto the threshold of adulthood. Cursing feels freeing and grown-up. It's a form of rebellious freedom. Sherry points out the blatant honesty in this element of character.
"That's literally what we would do when I was younger," he remarks. "Ride my bike around town, cursing the whole time. During filming, I'd call my mom from the set, and she'd ask how I was doing, to which I'd reply, I'm doing fucking great [laughs]. She'd be like, What's wrong with you? Why are you cursing at me so much? I was constantly apologizing."
With adolescence comes uncertainty and an inner compass that seems to change direction by the day. For Sherry, the takeaway from getting to relive his teenage years is clear and simple. "Get off your phone, get outside, run around, and make some memories." You heard him.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.