Spring Breakers
A morally obscure fever dream that's worth seeing on the big screen.
Overview
Sitting on my couch is a soft toy called Little Friend, made by the very brilliant late artist Mike Kelley. He's a blue, furry abject creature the size of a pillow with big googly eyes and pale pink appendages. When you smack his bottom, he says things like "don't play with your genitals, play with me" and "when you do naughty things, I see you". My favourite phrase, however, is emitted in a low, needy whisper, "hug me... foreverevereverever...".
A similarly creepy breathiness is intoned throughout the latest film from Harmony Korine (Gummo, Trash Humpers), Spring Breakers. "Spring Break foreevvvveerrr" over the top of gratuitous bare breasts jiggling, "spring break foreevvvveerrr" in the dorm room, on the beach, on a murderous rampage. Whereas Little Friend is confined to the living room, the sirens of Spring Breakers are not terribly interested in staying put.
There's nothing subtle about this film. Three bored, blonde college girls who may as well be nameless (Vanessa Hudgens, Rachel Korine and Ashley Benson as Candy, Cotty and Brit respectively) put the pressure on their tamer brunette Christian pal Faith (Selena Gomez) to ditch deadsville and head to the beach for a change of hedonistic pace. When Faith can't cough up enough money, the remaining trio hastily rob a chicken restaurant and they're all on their way. PARTAY!
Once there, it's everything they ever hoped it could be and perhaps nothing they really wanted. A drug bust at a party gets them all landed in jail — in their bikinis — until they're bailed out by a limply horrifying bruiser named Alien (James Franco nailing it in cornrows and grills). Hilarity actually does ensue, surprisingly, but so does that sickening feeling that will make you want to stop off for a quick washbasin shower in the cinema bathroom when it ends.
So that's the plot, but who really cares. Spring Breakers is about the delusion of the American dream, excess (Alien will tell you all about that one) and objectification with a hazy outlook on racial divisions (cue: Gucci Mane). Yes, the women in the film hardly ever wear clothes but they do possess a kind of unrealistic power we don't see very often on film. There are scenes of compromising sexual situations, but Korine doesn't err on that most vile of cliches, rape fetishisation — in fact it's flipped. The body shots are gratuitous — as they should be, given the vile Girls Gone Wild subject matter — but they're also tempered by Korine’s idiosyncratic beauty-out-of-garbarge long shots. It's of note that the cinematographer is Benoît Debie, most famous for his work on Gaspar Noé’s extreme Irreversible.
After repeated viewings, my mind's still not made up on its complexity. That world is so ripe for a truly subversive, artistic reading and I would have liked Spring Breakers to be a bit more radical than it is. With an R rating already in place though, it's a morally obscure fever dream that is worth seeing on a big screen.
Especially if you like Britney Spears.
Image Spring Breakers
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