It's no surprise that "alternative" festivals are hot and bothered over this latest escapade in teen-trash bilge water cinema.
Minimalism is de rigeur these days as regards plot development, acting capabilities and overall sophistication. Ms. Wood and her tweenie friend (whose name escapes me) have carved out a disposable product, MTV style, flash-bulb and strobe film. Underneath the nauseating camera effects, overdramatized portrayals of teen life and mindnumbingly degenerate performances, there's absolutely nothing worth hanging on to. Holly Hunter turns in a one-dimensional, predictable performance, and it's a dimension you've seen before (Home Alone springs to mind, only Ms. Hunter smokes cigarettes, drinks tea and has sex with an unattractive druggie). Ms. Wood and her pal smoke cigarettes (Sassy!), huff unidentified cleaning products (Dangerous!), assault each other (Edgy!) and kiss each other (when will that cease to be shocking??!?!?!?). Other people appear intermittently, but who's even bothered to remember them?
The swirling montages of consumerism are a tired retread of everything we've seen in pop culture since The Communist Manifesto, and Ms. Wood et al would have us believe that America's youth is troubled because of the pressure to wear thong underwear and make out with older black boys.
I want to know: where is the tension in this movie? Where is the plot? Where is the acting? Why should we feel any connection to these
crudely rendered characters?
I could go on, but "Thirteen" has done nothing to justify that additional effort.
Minimalism is de rigeur these days as regards plot development, acting capabilities and overall sophistication. Ms. Wood and her tweenie friend (whose name escapes me) have carved out a disposable product, MTV style, flash-bulb and strobe film. Underneath the nauseating camera effects, overdramatized portrayals of teen life and mindnumbingly degenerate performances, there's absolutely nothing worth hanging on to. Holly Hunter turns in a one-dimensional, predictable performance, and it's a dimension you've seen before (Home Alone springs to mind, only Ms. Hunter smokes cigarettes, drinks tea and has sex with an unattractive druggie). Ms. Wood and her pal smoke cigarettes (Sassy!), huff unidentified cleaning products (Dangerous!), assault each other (Edgy!) and kiss each other (when will that cease to be shocking??!?!?!?). Other people appear intermittently, but who's even bothered to remember them?
The swirling montages of consumerism are a tired retread of everything we've seen in pop culture since The Communist Manifesto, and Ms. Wood et al would have us believe that America's youth is troubled because of the pressure to wear thong underwear and make out with older black boys.
I want to know: where is the tension in this movie? Where is the plot? Where is the acting? Why should we feel any connection to these
crudely rendered characters?
I could go on, but "Thirteen" has done nothing to justify that additional effort.