David Schwimmer’s Trust opens with the track “Give a little” by Hanson. A teenage girl is preparing breakfast, only to follow it with her morning jog. The camera invisibly places itself on various corners of the room while it continues to scan her every move. But she has not the slightest idea. Cut to the title card “Trust”, designed in the plainest white font on a black background and let the track slowly fade away. You trust that this sets the tone for the film, a light teen drama.
Annie is celebrating her birthday with her family at a dinner table. You sense the unconditional positive regard shared. In school, Annie is merely an existence. The ‘cool’ girl invites her to a party, one that has teenagers doing the most taboo things. Annie is intimidated by their exuded sexual sophistication and returns home with a bad taste in her mouth. She tries talking to her dad about how they freaked her out but he cuts her saying that he’s busy with work. She turns to Charlie, a teenage boy with similar athletic interests. He tells her what she wants to hear. There begins their cyber relationship.
Charlie slowly reveals that he’s actually a twenty-year old sophomore. Annie lets it pass. Soon, twenty becomes twenty-five. Two months in, they meet at a mall. Charlie shows up as a middle-aged man. It deeply upsets Annie. How carefully (yet effortlessly) he coaxes her into sleeping with him from that point is disturbingly real. Deep inside she knows she’s making a mistake, one after the other but she doesn’t think such an opportunity will come again and gives in trusting that nothing will go wrong. The verbal ruses that Charlie uses to manipulate Annie... just brilliant screenwriting. Even petty comments on an ice cream flavour such as “You win, Pistachio rocks” earns her trust.