This may well be the definitive teen angst film of all time. I was in love with Alice (Charlotte Alexandra, who bears a striking resemblance to Alicia Silverstone in "The Crush") the moment she began her voice-over narration: "My name is Alice. I hate people. They oppress me." This future existentialist, who in a few years will either be studying phenomonology at the Sorbonne or joining a radical Maoist splinter cell, has every reason to feel oppressed. She is returning home from a truly ghastly summer vacation with her philandering dad and her nagging mom and is well on her way to becoming the next Sylvia Plath. A child trapped in a woman's body, she's obsessed with her vagina and with bodily fluids but understandably shy among men and terrified of real sex. Some of her fantasies and daydreams are quite odd, but hey, this is France, and we're talking about a fourteen-year old, okay? She scandalizes the neighborhood by riding around in her bicycle without any panties and begins a torrid fling with the stud who works at her dad's sawmill (Hyram Keller), which ends in tragedy when he's killed by her father's wild boar trap. The final shot of Alice is chilling. This film goes on to show once again that adolescence is hell, that sex is not all it's cracked out to be, that the French countryside is full of mean, narrow-minded people, and parents don't understand. Those looking for a good porno flick will be understandably disappointed, but those looking for an insightful analysis of modern man (or woman)'s existential ennui will be richly rewarded. This is the film "American Beauty" aspired to be.
Review of A Real Young Girl
