This is a puzzling work, addressing worthy issues and creating a portrait of a promising but clinically depressed boy, but it feels as if it doesn't know what to make of the issues it raises. Edwin, as played by the talented Darbo (who looks eerily like Michelle Pfeiffer), is a memorable character, an endearing rebel without a cause who has no tools to cope with his depression and alienation. And it's useful to see how such a confused boy could come under the influence of the truly disturbed neighbor who has been his friend for years.
And Then I Go is disturbing in several ways. The parents don't seem to notice many signs that all is not well. Edwin wakes up in his clothes. He often leaves the house in the middle of his sleepless nights to visit Flake, during which they plan the shooting. And although the school does try to address Edwin's behavior, there's no indication that anyone is trying to help Flake, the far more dangerous boy, suggesting that such kids are going to keep falling through the cracks if no efforts are made to change school and social policies. The film does observe without comment that guns lying around the house can be dangerously misused. The filmmakers cast Edwin as a prepubescent teenager, still a boy really, in contrast to Flake, who has the deep voice, muscles, and peach fuzz of a young man. They've been friends since childhood, but at this stage in their development, they seem mismatched in size and sensibilities. Despite the deliberate casting, the movie never addresses this disparity nor how the gap in physical maturity would manifest in their relationship. And we're certainly left wanting to know why any caring mother wouldn't delve deeper into her child's obvious suffering. The movie seems unaware of the many questions it raises, leaving the viewer ultimately disappointed.