Spend a day, if you choose, in the company of screwing, swearing, spitting, stealing, smoking, skateboarding, stomping Manhattan teens. Still photographer Larry Clark, shooting in a haphazard cinéma-verité mode, aims to shock. But the effect is muffled, in part by unintelligibility (poor recording, poor enunciating), and in part by sheer …
Comfortable smelly old shoe. A disillusioned investigative reporter and first-person narrator ("There's nothing worse than a writer who doesn't have anything to say. Well, that's me"), a couple of hot dames (one underage: the authoritative Chloe Sevigny), a phoney kidnap scheme, a double-cross, a couple of surprise twists. The serious-minded …
Steve Buscemi's debut as a writer and director, an almost shrinkingly modest independent film about and around the clientele of a Long Island neighborhood watering hole, a shades-of-gray corner building with a spindly sapling planted in the sidewalk out front. In his directing hat, he is meticulously observant of the …