Yes, I was a high school outcast. But I never obsessed about death. I wasn't poised on the edge of menstruation. And my home life was actually pretty good. So...this film that seems to be well regarded just didn't do it for me.
There aren't that many good werewolf movies out there, honestly. Compared to vampires, our furry friends get relatively few films. Even less good ones. I'm not ready to call this film "bad". It was well shot, despite the obvious low budget. The cast, though filled with unknowns and lesser knowns(minus the delectable Mimi Rogers, quite surprised to see her there) did a fine job. But...nope.
The scenario is this. Two girls, Ginger and Brigette, obsess about death and dying and apparently carry a suicide pact with them and have from age eight. Each day, they are bored by their classes, nauseated by hormonal high school boys, shunned by their fellow female students. With their choice of morbid art topics, they confound their teachers. And their disdain and disrespect frustrate their parents, or at least their mother (Rogers) because their Dad seems pretty checked out.
At some point, a lycanthropy curse kicks in, with obvious metaphorical ties with teenage changes, menstruation and rage, we get a canine killing spree.
But...yeah. Heathers, with Christian Slater and Wynona Ryder, seemed to deal with similar angst. Now, I had some issues when I was a youngster. But I don't get this fascination with youngsters in a downward spiral. At least for me, to generate relatability with this story, it needs to be through the eyes of a contrasting more...balanced perspective.
Young and tragic kinda leaves me cold.
As did this.
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