There may be a bait-and-switch afoot in Dìdi.

The first half plays like a checklist of familiar coming-of-age beats, and formula-conditioned audiences are liable to expect them to be predictable set-ups for typical emotional payoffs in the second half.

Dìdi lives with his frail grandma? Oh, he’ll definitely attend her funeral before the credits roll.

A combative relationship with his sister? Here comes their inevitable heart-to-heart that finally opens the lines of communication between them; can you say mutual maturation?

Absent father? When’s his “surprise” third-act appearance for a long-delayed confrontation with his offspring?

But Dìdi circumvents such dramatic fireworks (with the sole exception of the mother’s “pride” speech). Instead, the movie boasts a restraint that’s part and parcel with its depiction of adolescence:

Dìdi quickly torpedoes his life over the course of one summer, and the ending’s “resolution” is nothing grander than his first casual, everyday gestures at rebuilding his life according to the incomplete lessons learned from his recent mistakes.

Welcome to adulting, my guy.