Directed by John Stockwell
Written by Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi
Starring Kirsten Dunst, Jay Hernandez, Bruce Davison, Lucinda Jenney
USA, 2001
Rated PG-13 (mature themes, sex, drugs, alcohol, language)
TORTURED TEENAGE SOULS
Movies prominently featuring teenagers are ghettoized just like movies with African-American stars. They are marketed to a certain demographic and have set paths. The only questions the filmmakers seem to be asking are “Are we going for a depiction of the valley girl side of high school life, or is this movie about adolescent angst and rebellion?,” or “Is this movie about affluent or inner-city blacks?” It’s all simplistic thinking, if it’s thinking at all. These movies would suggest that blacks and teenagers have no place in mainstream America, that they’re special and are to be understood on basic terms. For the latter part of the ‘90s, Kirsten Dunst has made a living off of playing ditzy teens. Last year, she starred in Bring It On as a cheerleader and in The Virgin Suicides as a defiant teenage sex goddess. The wild and well-to-do Nicole Oakley, Dunst’s role in the new Crazy/Beautiful, is a combination of the two- the stereotype of the poetry-writing, picture-taking, talented brooding young woman- and now that she’s got something meaty to work with, Dunst gives us her best performance in a decade-long career.
She is joined by newcomer Jay Hernandez, who plays Carlos, Nicole’s poor Mexican-American boyfriend thrown off his academic course by her rowdiness and untamed libido. Though the ending doesn’t follow through with the screenplay’s promise to be daring- Dunst ends up, predictably, reconciling with her distant congressman father (Bruce Davison) and willingly attending a behavior correction center- there is much to admire in this both refreshing and disappointing movie. The white-Latino racial romance setup seems incredibly passé in the twenty-first century, but it brings about some questions that I don’t think have ever been asked in a popular teen flick. After discovering that Nicole’s father is a champion for minorities, hard-working Carlos takes advantage of this perk, and Mr. Oakley, a laughably unhip liberal, is happy to help him reach his goals. Nicole starts to feel used. When her father warns Carlos that Nicole will bring him down and ruin his chances of being successful, the audience is made to cringe at the unfeeling discouragements of teen love, but her substance abuse and sexual recklessness does lead to an encounter with the police that threatens to disrupt Carlos’s climb to the top.
Crazy/Beautiful’s miserable debut at the box-office is a real shame because the movie confronts issues like affirmative action and teen sex (safe and unsafe), and even hints at racial profiling in the hectic milieu of teenage nightlife. It turns the tables on the ideas of sexual power; Nicole is the sexual aggressor here. She is unkempt and ragged, much more so than her underprivileged boyfriend, and it’s because she wants to be. She also has every opportunity, no ambition, and a parent who has given up on her. Carlos’ drive and determination stem from his strict upbringing and the expectations of his mother. Both he and Nicole are seen for what they represent in the scheme of race and social status, not for their character or personality. Director John Stockwell has an accurate feel for what it means to be young in today’s America, and though I can’t say I have a life anywhere near as eventful as Nicole’s or Carlos’, I do know people who experience these things everyday.
Due to the Federal Trade Commission’s reprimands of the entertainment industry, Crazy/Beautiful has been trimmed and tidied for a PG-13 rating, but not dumbed down. There is more dope, booze, and hanky-panky than is shown onscreen and it’s obvious from the glazed look on Nicole’s face and Shane Hurlbut’s frantic, Traffic-aping cinematography that accentuates the pollution and cigarette smoke in the air. I can imagine it earning an R as it is, though the rating would be curious and rather dismaying. This is the most honest movie portrayal of teenage life that has come along in a while, and that life of drugs and alcohol and orgies was not learned from the movies but was born from raging hormones, misguided unruliness, and the complications of modern society. All the movies have done is encourage this irresponsibility, but this film doesn’t even do that. When you see Kirsten Dunst in an endless state of drunkenness, stoned and giggly, you don’t want to be her; she’s a wreck. You want her reassuring ending.
While the conclusion is so neat it’s almost unforgivable, it also serves an interesting purpose. Though Nicole is more sexually open and careless than Carlos and this translates as some sort of misshapen feminism, the fact that Carlos brings her closer to her father suggests the more traditional idea that a couple should be two halves that make a whole. And despite the seeming triteness of tackling multiracial relationships in movies, there is still a hopeless ethnic divide in our culture, even in high school, and the film strikes a chord on that level as well. Young people are tired of prejudices but, being bred to respect the black and the Asian and the Mexican, they cannot help but notice the ethnicity of a minority person. There’s one scene in which Nicole insists on going to a party with Carlos, and she ends up feeling alienated because she’s the only white girl there. Not only is the scene packed with racial tension, it also expresses the universal isolation and awkwardness of being the wallflower at parties. There is a stepparent-stepchild relationship in the film that is avoided; when it is dealt with, Nicole’s stepmom (Lucinda Jenney) is bossy and resentful.
Dunst is wonderful and acts with the fire of a pro; Hernandez looks a bit uncomfortable in front of the camera but has a natural charisma. Crazy/Beautiful captures the teenage feelings that adults must have forgotten they had when they were younger; it captures that rabid loneliness and confusion almost as well as Rebel Without a Cause did. The two lovers first meet while Nicole is picking up trash at the beach, and they first kiss in a filthy alley while her best friend squats to pee. How’s that for the beginnings of a modern day love story? But, like Rebel, there’s something slightly unsatisfying about it all, as if it’s not really a movie for us but a movie that has to teach grown-ups, once again, how it feels to be completely out-of-control and not like it at all.
By Andrew Chan [JULY 6, 2001]