Spring Breakers

Cinematically speaking, there’s nothing that turns me on more than the art of something new. A vision, while possibly drawing comparison to others, that remains wholly unique. A story I’ve never seen before, or, just as effectively, a story I’ve seen a hundred times, but now with a fresh spin. It’s no matter how the originality comes to be –through story, execution, tone –so long as it’s new. Give me something new, and I’ll give you my full appreciation.

And this is a tricky feat. For every filmmaker who attempts and achieves uniqueness, there are five who have tried admirably and failed. That’s the game. And, to add to the complexity, what I consider a new success is something you surely may not. “New” often lends itself to words like divisive and polarizing. At the very least, whether I end up liking or loathing an innovative vision, I certainly always welcome it.

I’m referring specially to the work of cult auteur Harmony Korine, whose films have received a gamut of critical attention (both ecstatic and lacerating) since he wrote the script for Kids when he was just 18. Since then, Korine has steadily asserted himself as a pioneer of American, guerilla-style, don’t-give-a-fuck cinema. His attitude is viewed as assured by his fans, and elitist by his detractors. His feature films deal with human beings at their worst –  most poor, most depraved, most lost and alienated. They’re raw, bold, and never fail to provoke discussion. I’ve liked some, been indifferent toward others, and appreciated them all. But it took Spring Breakers for me to finally fall in love.

Much like Korine’s influences of Herzog, Cassavetes, Godard, and Carax, plot matters little in the shadow of story and character. In the case of Spring Breakers, we have four college girls who want nothing more than to escape the mundaneness of their lives by going on spring break. Early in the film, the four girls (played by former Disney starlets Vanessa Hudgens and Selana Gomez; ABC Family star Ashley Benson; and Korine’s own wife, Rachel) sit in a bathroom stall and count the pennies they’ve saved. Despite their best efforts, they are far short of enjoying a week of debauchery. And this is the precise moment where I fell in love. Gomez slowly unleashes a monologue of such ill-advised adolescent accuracy – she cries and pleads (to herself, to her friends, to anyone) for this trip to work. Getting away, even for a week, is freedom. It’s exposing themselves to a world outside their own. Which, for anyone who has ever known or been a 19-year-old girl, understands that that is often a chief concern. 

So, in the grand context of things, we have a teenage girl whining about not being able to go on spring break. Nothing more. But what Gomez does with the scene (motivated by Korine’s perfect script) is make this trip seem like the last thing in the world to these girls. We really believe that they must go. It’s a delicate balance of teenaged want vs. need, and it is sold beautifully.

Once the trip is deemed essential, three of the girls, in what will surely be one of the most impressive film sequences of the year, rob a restaurant to secure funds. They hop on a bus and are off to St. Petersburg, Florida. And from there, they smoke, they coke, they drink – they spring break. (Side note: if you think the extended party sequences in this film are hyperbolic in any way, then that is nothing more than a reflection of how you spent your time at college. It may not have been your scene [or mine, for that matter], but it is indeed a scene. Trust me.)

A few days into their ruckus, the girls find themselves in lock up, forced to post bail or stay in the pen. Enter Alien (James Franco) a gold teeth-plated, gansgta-rapping thug who bails the ladies out, hoping to gain companionship. And that’s when Spring Breakers turns from a film about girls wanting to get wild, to actually discovering what wild really is. Alien is no wannbe thug. Dude has cash, dude has guns, dude has drugs, and dude is not afraid to flaunt it. In perhaps the film’s most memorable scene (and the one that is certain to remain a staple among contemporary quotable pop culture) Alien takes the girls around his Scarface-inspired bedroom and advises them to “Look at all my shit!”

If it sounds silly, that’s because Korine intends it to be. He’s the kind of guy who has James Franco sing a Britney Spears ballad, while crosscutting Alien and the girls robbing innocent ‘Breakers and getting away with it. He’s the guy who teeters so remarkably on the edge of absurd and melodrama, without ever falling over either way. He’s the guy who transitions most every scene with the sound of a cocking shotgun, who shoots a seemingly trashy spring break flick in gorgeous 35mm, who bathes his film in bright, florescent colors. He’s the guy who is so undeniably confident in his vision, that it’s impossible to deny his talent. You may not like Spring Breakers, but there’s no arguing that this is a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

Instead of dissecting James Franco’s filmography, it’s easiest to say that his acting often works, and often does not. In keeping with that brevity, I will say that Alien is the best performance James Franco has ever given. Easily. No contest. Once he enters the film, a shift occurs that will force viewers to take the film seriously or roll their eyes endlessly. You’ll either laugh with him or at him, but I implore you to examine the purpose in the former.

I cannot recall seeing the four female stars in anything. I knew who they were, but their talents were left unseen by me. With that noted, I don’t care what they’ve been in before, because based on the strength of their work here, these ladies can act. Particularly Hudgens and Benson, whose characters have false idealizations of “thug life” before finally, shockingly understanding what that life really entails. They depict the American Dream gone awry, and they do it with utter conviction.

Spring Breakers is the first film in months that I’ve rushed to see a second time. Problem is, I haven’t had the chance to revisit it since my first viewing. Which means it has been constant in my head since the minute its closing credits cued. I have some sort of false impression that once I watch it again, it will begin to gently escape my mind. But that’s wrong. Spring Breakers is here to stay. For better or worse, this is one we’re going to be talking about for a great long while. Of which I myself will benefit from greatly. A