Spring Breakers premiered at SXSW this week, and since apparently the opinion of a weiner humorist/breast pictorologist isn’t good enough to get invited, I still haven’t seen it. And probably won’t judging by the reviews I’ve cobbled together in case everyone wasn’t sure the entire year we’ve spent looking at bikini photos from the set wasn’t a way sexier and cheaper use of our time. So below are a couple of critics I won’t insult by calling colleagues because they use big words like “enervating” and “labial mounds,” whatever that last one means. Or you can just bail right now and stare at pics of Vanessa Hudgens doing Pilates in booty shorts. This is a happy place.
The main obsession mined in Spring Breakers is frat culture, rap culture, and coed pseudo porn. The movie opens with slow-motion fake tits getting shot with beer and water, leading into a shot of four buff frat dudes holding beer cans as their dicks, “pissing” beer onto eager, arch-backed topless women sitting in front of them in the prone. As Korine turns his eye to his stars, he never tries to disguise the lingering close-ups of their labial mounds, faintly visible beneath their ribbon-thin layer of neoprene, making expressly clear what so much faux-chaste youth programming denies but so obviously fetishizes. That those stars are former Disney Channel babes and a beard brigade of Bieber and Efron exes is just Smirnoff icing on the jizz cake. Read More >
The A.V. Club
The sensual overload of Korine’s Day-Glo images of bodies in motion, underlined by the sonic assault of Skrillex’s score, makes Spring Breakers seem transcendent in five-minute bursts. But the overall effect is enervating, like a party that grinds on after most of the attendees have either left or passed out. Read More >
Los Angeles Times
Is any of it sexy? Not especially. Is it violent? Plenty of TV shows are worse. Is it truthful? Well, yes and no. Korine does manage the nifty respiratory trick of breathing in the intoxicating perfume of debauchery while exhaling a self-satisfied soullessness about it all. In the end, it’s the strip club leer that hardens into a catatonic stare, which in its way is commentary enough for a pop-exploitation riff like “Spring Breakers.” Read More >
I just dub-stepped in a big pile of sh#t by seeing “Spring Breakers.” Read More >