Well, "clinically depressed" love, at any rate. Not to overstate the case. He (Chris O'Donnell) dresses by the code of Seattle grunge, but after all he lives in Seattle, and is otherwise a responsible big brother in a single-parent home. She (Drew Barrymore, tattoos concealed) is a moonlight-jet-skiing, library-book-stealing, school-skipping, false-fire-alarming ("What are you, nuts?" "Yah") new girl in town. When she's grounded and then hospitalized after a pill overdose, the young couple do the traditional American thing, hit the road and never look back. (Common practice: standing up, arms spread wide, in an open-topped car on the open highway, a rock song in the background.) One decent, impressionistic scene of people-watching on a small-town sidewalk is followed directly by a scene of total baloney: the boy waking up to find that his freaked-out girlfriend has pasted ("for protection") hundreds of images of eyes, neatly torn from magazines and newspapers, on the four walls of their apartment, by the light of a couple of dozen candles. Director Antonia Bird buckles down near the end and gets serious, and as in her Priest she pulls some palpable, sharable sentiment out of her sleeve. (1995) — Duncan Shepherd
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